One Traveler

Yes, mine is very high.

There it is on the table. Four aces and both jokers. I’m not holding those cards close to my chest any longer.

Why should I? They were never a secret, unless perhaps to me.

A number, as in “What’s your IQ”? Nothing doing. For one thing, a number without a test to relate it to is ridiculous. For another, numbers decline with age, only because chronological age increases (intelligence “quotient,” see?) For another, there are better ways to confirm exceptionality than a single number.

Mainly, there is the real-life experience of the gifted person, and those around him/her who love him/her despite genuine perplexity. Our natural asynchrony leads to misunderstanding and a host of misdiagnoses: anger issues, narcissistic issues, avoidant issues, oppositional-defiant issues, and more.

But in the case of a true G, there are always contradictory symptoms–counterindications–that nullify, or significantly qualify, a diagnosis of any sort. Armchair diagnoses, in particular, are offensive and unhelpful.

And there’s a bright side. There’s a decided tendency towards high energy, intensity, many talents, and a desire to be of service. These counteract, largely, the tendency towards sensitivity, self-criticism, perfectionism, existential anxiety, and even hypoglycemia (normally, 20% of the body’s glucose is gobbled up by the brain–and when that brain won’t shut the hell up…)

You can set the “giftedness” cutoff at five percent, two percent (the Mensa standard), one percent, or in the cloudy sub-divisions of the top one percent as you like–but people in this general end of the curve normally have to struggle to fit in.

That’s right–no less than people who are severely challenged, people who are absurdly habilitated also fail to see the world as folks in the Huge Middle naturally do. We ‘get’ this, sort of, for artistic and musical talent; we tend to indulge the “brilliant artist.” We’ve cut Michael Jackson the kind of slack we would never cut a bishop.

But we’re far less tolerant of cognitive divergence–standard deviance, as it were. We think things like “thinks he’s better than me” and “smug jerk.” “Always arguing. Can’t get along. Can’t see things like I do.”

And the Ivory Tower can only accommodate so many…and quite a few of them…well, there’s plenty of chances for advancement for the reptile brain. Academia is not a mandatory career path in any case.

We tend to piss people off. Sorry about that–in hindsight and in advance.

And no, I don’t “blame society” for every poor choice I’ve ever made. I’ve made some very poor ones, and I know it. On the other hand, remember Pascal: tout comprendre, c’est tout pardonner.

And remember: it’s my world just as much as it is yours!

So no judgements here–we all see the world as we see it. And this isn’t meant as a boast. If anything, it’s offered as partial explanation for the difficulties many of us, myself included, have in fitting in.

Ah, well. Tomorrow’s another day. Twenty-three hours, fifty-six minutes, and four seconds in which to have another go. Sidereally speaking, that is.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 4th, 2009 at 8:19 pm and is filed under Brains. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.