As I’ve gotten older my vision and spiritual intuition seem to have gotten sharper. In fact, I might be able to give you some helpful counsel, if you ask.
The one person I can’t figure out, however, is myself. Me, no get.
Think about it: By definition I can’t see my own blind spots. Yet, I know they’re there. I know something needs attention. I know I need your counsel if I’m to navigate my way through the next stretch of tricky waters–whatever they turn out to be.
It seems to me some people don’t know they have blind spots. And they’d probably be devastated if someone told them. I guess mostly we don’t tell them, do we.
Socrates admitted his blind spots, and was rewarded for it. The Oracle at Delphi called him the wisest man in the world, because he admitted what he didn’t know. He didn’t think himself wise.
As we come to each other as colleagues, friends, co-workers, family, may we regard ourselves as teachable. You’re able to see my stuff, I’m able to see yours. It’s our own stuff–hiding like a vehicle just beyond the range of our side mirrors–that we can’t see.
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