Quiet thinkers intrigue me.
Those who pay attention. The people who speak only to clarify and understand. The ones who hold on to their wisdom because they question their own thinking.
We don’t need know-it-alls. The arrogant, overbearing ones with an answer to everything. So undoubting of their self-important and obtrusive opinions that they disregard your views no matter what your education or experience.
You can’t convince me the red rose I see is blue
Nor argue it is a violet by the lies you brew
We’ve all had enough of misinformed opinions. Brash bastards repel us with their enormous egos.
I’ve had to step up to the leadership role in my career. I’ve stood in front of angry mobs, drunken fools, and bosses baying for a scapegoat for their own incompetence.
I put on a pretense.
I learned to stand and deliver. Be heard. Boldly crow so others listen. I squeezed into a uniform with stripes and hid under a hat rimmed with spaghetti. I’ve rallied and led. Mustered and mobilized.
But I was much more comfortable sitting at the back, listening. Taking it in. Studying the room as if it were a giant petri dish. My microscope and me.
I watched the organisms around me divide, split, and form together in small agreements. Curious about big characters and their nature to feed on the smaller ones.
I disliked being pressed for an opinion in that environment. Open to rebuke, ridicule, or rationalization. I much preferred the one-to-one. Learning through a probing conversation that seesaws. Turn for a turn.