The Expert, The Imposter, The Observant Woman, and the Natural Philosopher

 I turn my head in any direction. Everything I see, the amount of things, gives me anxiety. What am I supposed to do with all of this? What is the ideal thing to engage with? Don't get confused, this isn't perfectionism. Or maybe it is. I close my eyes and it's just the same. What's the ideal thought to think? I mean, where does this thought come from? I attempt to patch my lack with pressure. The pressure to form substance that is perceived as substantial. It's strange to look within, to have this feeling, to often see that there is nothing. I think many, many people can relate to this. I think many can not. At least, the perpetual mental stutter. Which thoughts begin to form, which give rise to many disparate thoughts and feelings. Too many, is it a psychological defense to keep these thoughts sealed? The same pressure I was discussing before, is the pressure that creates this seal. It reminds me of a Leonard Cohen quote from the song "Stories of the Street". "Oh lady with your legs so fine, oh stranger at your wheel. You are locked into your suffering, and your pleasures are the seal." If we interpret this as Cohen implying that in order to be free of suffering, we must open up our pleasures, then it becomes analogous to the pressure of "faux perfectionism" sealing away epistemic anxiety. To be free of this anxiety, we must let go of this pressure. Or, more accurately, perfectionism is part of what makes the seal. The seal being validation. 

    The perfect analogy isn't the point, though. It's the vague idea that always searching for validation, even when alone, is what drives this anxiety towards perfectionism . This perfectionism that can reflect back on one's self-image all the time. Obviously, this is insecurity of the self. This is comparison of the self with others and, when projected, comparison of others with others. Extremely, comparison of everybody with an ideal. Well, hold on a minute. It seems that these may be two different symptoms: comparison of the self with others and comparison of others with an ideal. The former seeming based in anxiety and depression, the latter not necessarily. I may be making an error again and projecting my experience of "comparing self with others" onto the act. We all do it, and it is only a problem if that comparison is always and consistently negative. Or always and consistently positive. Now, I want to look at this with a few hypothetical scenarios. An expert in Christian theology placed in a party with people who have never read the Bible. 

    Everybody in this party, when speaking to this expert, finds themselves enjoying their discussion. The expert is an affable man who doesn't feel the need to assert his knowledge. He goes around to each person in the party and, when asked what he does, tells them with enthusiasm and pride but no arrogance. 

    The first woman he speaks to is not an expert or knowledgeable in anything in particular, and upon learning about the man's expertise becomes self-conscious and anxious to the point of ending the conversation. 

    The second woman he speaks to finds it fascinating, asks many questions, but the questions aren't particularly well-structured and don't contribute to any meaningful dialogue. 

    The next person, a man, is similar. However, he manages to ask the expert one or two questions that spark some depth. The man, however, finds that he is unable to follow all of the threads, even when asking questions that are authentically meant to engage and deepen his understanding.

    The next man is similar, yet finds himself speaking as though he understands, without truly engaging with any depth. He is unaware that he's doing this. The expert quickly walks away from this one. 

    The next woman is able to ask incisive questions that get to substance within the theological field, motivating the expert himself to explore certain concepts knowing that they, at the very least, would be received with some level of reciprocated enthusiasm and curiosity, albeit lacking the same knowledge. 

    One is able to relate and converse of the level of relating to the process of learning and developing an intellectual expertise. This woman is an etymologist. 

    One becomes combative when the expert mentions his certain criticisms of the Bible. 

    One man even takes what the expert says and relates it to their own observations about religion in a way that dominates and goes beyond the scope of pure knowledge that the expert largely exists within. You could call this man the natural philosopher. The expert is surprised by this natural philosopher and, during this conversation, finds himself becoming defensive. This natural philosopher continues discussing his perspective on religion, not noticing the expert's increasing tension. The expert begins speaking less and less, feeling self-conscious and anxious about the profound and ceaseless observations shared by this uneducated person. The expert ends the conversation and moves on.

    The next woman is very similar to the natural philosopher, though is far more observant. She begins speaking to the expert and, for a moment, the expert begins to feel just the same way he did during the other conversation. Upon noticing this feeling, he's even quicker to silence than before, allowing the woman to dominate the conversation while he exists in this space of self-conscious, anxious silence, perhaps he even feels that it's a form of submission. He begins to even question the purpose of education and the purpose of his knowledge. If these people are so insightful that they can draw meaningful connections in such a natural way without having put in the effort that he did, why did he even bother? Is he just embarrassing himself by considering himself an expert on theology, or anything? Why would he continue to? What was the purpose of it? What path could he have taken instead and how could he have known THAT was the correct path? What was he capable of achieving in a field which must be encompassed by people just like these who are naturally, effortlessly insightful? What was his purpose? This what he was thinking when the woman, more observant than the natural philosopher, noticed his growing silence and discomfort. She decides to let him be and move onto another conversation. 

  As she walks away, the first woman he spoke to is walking by. The expert stops her and begins speaking to her. He asks her about her occupation, inquiring about her values and interests. He becomes fascinated by her, with a feeling of infinite smallness in facing the depth of the person before him. He asks her about her life and realizes how little he knows about so many things. He engages with a humble curiosity. As they continue speaking, she begins to feel empowered. She feels appreciated, admired, and most of all, big. Big in the face of this expert, who, with so much knowledge, is so captivated by her and her perspective. She begins to wonder about herself. Well, if she can captivate a man of such great intelligence with what, to her, is common and everyday, then she must be naturally gifted. Maybe that's why she tends to struggle with conversations, she is actually intelligent to the point of feeling as though her ideas and words aren't captivating, but truly, they're just beyond the reach of most people. She had imposter syndrome the whole time, she realized. She just needs to be more assertive and trust herself and her mind. She begins to feel bored by the conversation before her. This "expert" is simply not interesting enough for her. She says something to the expert who, already feeling small, now feels belittled. She walks away.

    The observant woman notices her walk away and approaches the expert. The expert, now feeling demoralized and anxious, is shocked by her appearance in front of him. She engages in conversation with him, apologizes for dominating the conversation, and begins to ask him questions about his field. He is aware what she's doing and feels pitied. He feels angry and wonders if he'd even be able to discuss anything of true substance with her or anyone. This observant woman, though, is incredibly quick and empathetic. She identifies aspects of his emotions and speaks with him in such a way that slowly builds his trust and confidence, without him being aware that it's her intention. She is being altruistic, yet it does take a level of effort that causes some frustration and resentment for his, from her perspective, fragile self-confidence. As well as her own drive for harmony and her natural curiosity. At times, she feels guilty for not being aware enough to realize that her enthusiasm could cause an effect on somebody in this manner. In any case, she compartmentalizes these feelings and continues speaking with the expert. During this conversation, the expert is slowly reminded of his depth of knowledge, the years he spent learning, the effort it took, and how few truly achieve what he did. He once again feels the way he did at the beginning of the party, enthusiastically sharing his thoughts without a hint of anxiety or arrogance. He begins to feel at peace and, at times, slips into a sense of superiority over this woman. This superiority hindered by the reminder of their previous conversation, which creates a temporary suspicion that she may actually be holding back, limiting herself, or, worst of all, manipulating the conversation in order for him to regain his confidence. He sees that as just another form of pity. He wonders about it, then concludes that nobody could be that naturally skilled and adept. He wonders about it for a moment, then lets the thought go as he continues his enthusiastic sharing of knowledge.

    The imposter, after stepping away from the expert, went to find somebody else to test her newly realized intellect on. She approaches the natural philosopher, having heard about his great intelligence. She reflects on what's stuck out to her in her life as deeply intelligent and begins with what she knows to be a popular and difficult question to answer. She asks him what he thinks about consciousness. As he admits to not knowing what it is, she smirks as she realizes she can provide an answer where he can't. She begins to give her personal analysis and argumentation for what consciousness is. She reflects on her own consciousness, what she perceives in others, and everything she's learned about it, which isn't much. She even qualifies her statements as to appear unbiased and disconnected from the conclusion. However, her conception is notably shallow and scattered as she struggles to articulate her thoughts. The natural philosopher, following what she says, takes her thoughts and begins to expand on them, filling in her gaps, while acknowledging her curiosity and, albeit limited (though he doesn't say it), insight. At first, she feels pride from his encouragement, but as they continue talking she starts to struggle a bit more. She finds herself with nothing to say and watches as the natural philosopher continues speaking effortlessly about these deeply philosophical topics. She becomes irritated by the sound of his voice and his continued development of concepts, of which she has totally lost the thread of and her interest in. She reflects on his encouragement and retroactively interprets it as pity and arrogance. She begins to feel small again. As the natural philosopher continues talking, the imposter finds herself entirely quiet. In her silence, she starts to feel stupid, not only for her inability to keep up with the natural philosopher, but for the very fact that it was so easy for her to be influenced into believing she had a great, natural intelligence to begin with. She thought of intelligent people, how they were able to connect dots and reason well, and with a lifetime of lacking evidence, it only took one bit of partial evidence for her self-image and worldview to change. Or had she just been waiting for the validation, the acceptance of this belief in her superiority that was already there, hidden under her silence? She begins to feel guilty about how she treated the expert. How he was obviously more intelligent than her, smart enough to let his ego down to allow her to have the floor, to speak and to develop confidence. To feel comfortable and admired, even. She felt shameful about letting herself feel better than such a great man. With these revelations, she decided that she just simply wasn't intelligent enough to be a part of even a conversation with one of these people. She even began to doubt her intelligence in the face of family and friends. She felt a crippling anxiety and dread. Though she did often have anxieties and insecurities surrounding her own intelligence, this was on a level she had not experienced before.