We’re all a little like Mickey—blind to our own flaws.
My dog Mickey thinks he is a lot bigger than he actually is. He is madly in love with Meadow, a big, male sheepdog, three times his size. Not to be deterred by the difference in size, Mickey insists on trying to mount Meadow, who, I must say, takes it all in stride and tolerates my 16 pound Terrier mutt’s ardor and passion. In fact, it seems as though Meadow doesn’t even notice Mickey, who is earnestly working away at making wild passionate love.
Mickey, you see, is not ”on to himself.” There is ignorance wherein you don’t know, and then there is blindness. Blindness is not knowing what you don’t know. Old Mick is blind to the circumstances, while the rest of us are greatly entertained by what he doesn’t know.
Here’s the thing: we are all a little bit Mickey. We walk around in a cloud of obliviousness, thinking we are looking smart and like we know what we’re doing, even as we walk into walls and crash about the room. All of this would be “no harm, no foul” except every single person around us sees us clearly, sees every wrong move, and knows we don’t know what we’re doing. They see every misstep, every flaw, every mistake, as plain as the proverbial nose on your face.
Why do they let us do that? How could they allow us to make such utter fools of ourselves? Because they just don’t care enough to go through the hassle of confronting us. After all, are we really grateful when a “dear friend” points out a faux pas? Our reactions range anywhere from humble embarrassment to irate indignation. In short, we become a handful, and nobody wants to have to deal with that. They’d rather just go along to get along.
It’s quite a little negative contract we have with each other. Nobody ruffles each others’ feathers. Neither does anyone tell us when we’ve screwed up, or when we are about to eat the sidewalk. We are all complicit in a self-congratulating deception; we get to continue making the same mistakes over and over, being the asshole without knowing it, and hurting others with little or no accountability. Aren’t you tired of being the only one who doesn’t know you’re being a jerk? It isn’t from love that they don’t let you in on the messes you’re making, it’s laziness. It is unwillingness to get messy, to be accountable to some truth we see.
