Purgatory

My friends tell me I talk too much! It’s a pretty fair summation of who I am. I love to pontificate and expand on the things running through my head. You could say that I am “contemplative.” I have had conversations that I worded so eloquently, I felt regret that a record hadn’t been made. But if I were being honest, I would deduce that I own no real opinions. I have beliefs, values, and morals. I’m no monster, but then again, I couldn’t tell you an opinion of mine that in the same breath, I couldn’t just as much  disregard. I wasn’t always like that; I used to be a complete fire-breather. I was sure of almost every opinion I had. Every argument was made with conviction and absolute certainty. I went through life with a pretty healthy level of hubris. But now, that confidence is dwarfed by an immense doubt. I couldn’t tell you when or how it started, but it’s there. As cliche as it sounds, the more I learned, the less sure I was. I came to see others and myself more as a result of circumstance. With close examination, I found I couldn't really explain why it is that I do anything, really. Think about your favorite song; do you enjoy it because you were born to, or because your mom used to play it every Sunday. Would you have enjoyed that same song regardless of circumstance? What about yourself did you actively choose? If we are born to be as we are, would we be who we are regardless of environment? Either answer leads you to question who “you” are. And this is where I live, between what I was born to be and what I was made to be, with little room for myself. Every thought, every emotion, every feeling questioned. Were any opinions even mine? How could I be sure I didn’t overhear someone more astute than myself make that point, and what about me resonated with that opinion? 

The thing about playing devil’s advocate is that at a certain point, you begin not to just do it to yourself, but about yourself. Now everything is both reasonable and equally unreasonable. If I can’t explain why it is I am who I am, what option is truly valid? So I find myself in a sort of opinion purgatory, in the space right between conviction and doubt.  But maybe this is how it’s meant to be. Maybe I’m better now than when I was sure of who I was. It’s hard to judge others when you question yourself. As my doubt grows, I’m equally more accepting, never attributing anything to anyone but to an amalgamation of chemistry and happenstance. I'd much rather live in a world where no one is a hundred percent sure of themselves. I find those people a bit easier to talk to, because it is more reasonable to hold no opinion about your self-regard, since that can’t be disabused. The more uncertain I became of myself, the more accepting I became of others. With every opinion questioned, the more grace I’ve allowed others to do the same. So no, I’m not really sure of anything, and I’d much rather prefer that.