I’ve given this post two titles because I couldn’t decide which title is more appropriate. The Know-It-All’s Guide to Knowing it All is my goofy, not serious, idea for the title of a book. Whenever I think that someone is being a condescending know-it-all, trying to tell everybody what to think and how to live their lives, I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying: “You really should write a book. I have the perfect title…”
We can all be like this, myself included. Everyone has opinions and we all tend to believe our opinions are correct and that anyone who disagrees must be wrong. Of course, we pretty much have to think this. If we didn’t believe our opinions were correct, we would change our opinions.
Having a Mensa IQ can be a curse sometimes, because this can make it harder to be open minded about the possibility of being wrong. But, here’s the thing — do you know what having a high IQ actually means? It means you are really good at taking IQ tests. And that’s about it. In real life, where the rubber meets the road, I have made some of the dumbest mistakes a human being can possibly make. (No, this is not an exaggeration.)
So, being barely smart enough to realize how dumb I am, I hesitate to share my opinions about current event, hot button issues. Here’s another reason why I hesitate to address controversial topics: I hate offending people. A third reason is that I detest confrontation. PTSD can do this to a person. After going through a ton of trauma, who needs the headaches? Life is so much easier when you hide and be quiet and play it safe.
Which brings me to my second title for this post: The Presumed Happiness of Clams. My daughter sent me a text awhile back, saying she wants to write a book with that title. Lol! 😀
But seriously — does it really make a person happier to keep quiet and hide inside a shell? I don’t think so, although it’s probably a lot better than going to the opposite extreme and arguing with everybody on social media.
Two days ago, I watched on my computer via live stream as my “happy as a clam” daughter graduated from Whitworth University with a master’s degree in family and marriage therapy. Later that same day, I came out of my self imposed clam shell and wrote a blog post expressing my views on the topic of abortion.
I explained many of my reasons for believing the way I do. But by the time I reached the end of the post, I was too emotionally exhausted to explain all of my reasons. One of those reasons has to do with my daughter, the lovely young woman with a brand new master’s degree, the wannabe author of a book about happy clams.
You see, when the doctor told me I was pregnant with her, probably about four weeks along, he urged me to abort her to save my life.