at one talk that i attended, we were reminded of Johari's window. it pertains to a reality of how much one knows himself, how others know him, and how much no one knows anything at all. we are encouraged to change everything so that doubting oneself (or being doubted) would be no problem at all.
but it ain't that easy. as far as i know (though i can't say i tried).
how would you discover the remainder of your character if everyone would not just cooperate? how would you solve the dilemma of a man when other people do not even bother confront him with his own evil? how would you know you're stupid when you're too dumb to figure it out?
agh, everything is just plain wrong. no one just couldn't understand the reality of a life that has to be left drifting with the unpredictable currents of the ocean.
in short, it's the challenge in seeking beyond the truth in finding who one really is.
there are the backfighters. they had all the glory telling other people your mistakes and how they dislike you, but they never had the guts to shove it all to you face-to-face.
they are crabs. arrogant to their own way of thinking. these wimps might not even have the slightest ideas that other third-persons are also traitors.
far more trying-hard quixotic are the all-knowing wizard impostors. the answers to everything are the wits of the mind, and it's not difficult for them to manipulate others' weaknesses into meer dots. they're the meanest crabs that only look down upon those they step upon. sadly, his mind does not stop from racing into lunacy.
and then comes the advantageous user. it's in your absence of consciousness that kept you attached to other people to 'help' you along the way. you tend to depend on them even at the most minimal effect of change. you thoroughly believe that you do not mean harm, until one of your company notices that things are going out of hand.
you make it a point that everyone would take a liking for you, their affection is yours. and it's in your conviction that you get to know yourself more through others.
dead wrong, sir. again, you depended on them. it's such a pity that you could not convince yourself into a journey of your own and try to understand the minor role that others could play. they are not the storytellers, neither do they rephrase everything for you.
only a dying knight would let others do the uncovering of his own armor. such a weakling would be an idiot if he did not even attempt to fight the fear of his own blood.
there would be no end to this agony of man. it is the punishment of the misunderstood. even the sending down the prophets would be of no use, for they would not be listened to.
is there a way? the nirvana of the self is nowhere. meditation would not be enough to understand a design so grand that you have to see the others' own need to be helped.
no man is an island. if he does not find the trust he's looking for among his companions, then he won't be able to trust himself. the clouds of doubt and fear will overshadow the voyage of truth. and a sad fate of his own blindless could led him to his unsatisfying death.
how long should one wait? it's not in the choosing of friends, it's believing in yourself that you've got the right people to carry you through. and at the same time, make them believe that you'll do the same for them. no backfighter, no abusive user. everyone's a shipmate.
...but sometimes, it's too late to realize this.
