Hot take. Every biographical account of a genius or cultural hero is at least partially mythical. Einstein, Voltaire, Mother Theresa. They are all brilliant and wonderful icons whose legacies are part apocryphal. Revisionist history might even question someone’s legacy entirely, either on moral grounds like with Christopher Columbus or factual grounds like Helen Keller. At some point, the facts of a story become less important. They get replaced by dramatic narrative. We don’t remember Alexander the Great or Ghenghis Khan because there is a perfectly accurately record of them, but because they inspired stories that survived the ages. Stories that often involved complex morality, fantastic tales, and overly dramatic low points.
Our desire to look good and innocent in the eyes of others is natural but it also robs us of building towards the drama that might, whether we accept it or not, define our life. If we’re lucky and use the right spin we could probably keep our reputation relatively clean which, if possible, is not a bad idea. Having a good reputation is not always the same as being good.
Our most defining moments are not usually ones in which everything is going well or we’ve gotten away with a mistake. Paradoxically it is when we are at our worst that we have the greatest opportunity to grow and define our character. While we should not welcome or invite catastrophe, we will face it and at times it will be due to our own stupidity or malevolence. It is by living through and overcoming the effects of our worst acts and attributes that we can figure out who we really are and who we could possibly strive to be.
If, in the face of potential social death your reaction is to be frantic, desperate and unreliable that is understandable but also revealing. Apparently you are not the stoic stalwart you thought you were and now you have a clear indication of what to work on. The refiner’s fire exposes your inadequacies and blemishes, which is excruciating but this could be the exact thing you needed to make a bold move towards a stronger, more mature version of yourself.
Solzhenitsyn wrote that the line between good and evil cuts through every human heart. Denying so allows our own darkness to influence us in silence. You have the capacity to do harm. To lie and to cheat and to sin. Why would the Bible teach that the humble inherit the kingdom of heaven? It might be related to the Jungian theory that in order for a tree to reach heaven its roots must reach hell. It’s not being perfect that brings you to heaven but by recognizing how you fell short and learning how to progress and grow from our inevitable mistakes, no matter how big they were.
The dream of passing through this life as an unblemished hero like Abraham Lincoln or Martin Luther King is over for you. And guess what? It’s over for Lincoln and King as well. They were not perfect figures either. The triumph of your story doesn’t come from denying your mistakes but my owning all of your story, even the part that is unfair to you, so that you can develop and mature into an integrated human being not just an angelic projection of others.
“If you can keep your head when all about your are losing theirs and blaming it on you, if you can trust yourself when all men doubt you but make allowance for their doubting too;” wrote Kipling, and “if you can meet with triumph and disaster and treat both imposters just the same.” If you can do these things at your worst then you are truly a person of character and potential. It’s easy to be virtuous when the pressure is minimal and the conditions ideal. But if all around you is burning, you now have the chance to prove yourself. Prove your strength, your endurance, your goodness, and your grace. This is the time to do it.
Don’t cheapen it by trying to looking good.