It’s an interesting and, I think, important line of thought. I used to find it frustrating, that sense that so few ever seemed to understand me and worse, those occasions when someone would refuse to believe they could be wrong about me when I was thinking I simply needed to communicate better. A lot of what we “understand” appears to be nothing more than what we’re willing to believe. Seeing that limitation in others aimed at me reminds me to keep my own doors open. I don’t really think I truly understand anyone anymore, and when I feel I might understand a particular circumstance, there’s always that little voice reminding me that my own encyclopedia of issues is probably coloring in the picture to a degree. The older I get, the more loosely I hold on to whatever I think I know or what anyone else thinks they know of me.
