As I sit here, thinking about what to write, I question the entire process of putting my thoughts onto such a public forum.  I mean, who am I to think that anything I have to say would be valuable to anyone.  In fact, it is at times like this when I can feel all of the substantive thoughts leaking out of my mind that I can only conclude that I have nothing useful to say.  I am further certain that my only real contribution will be to ramp up the noise of a world that is bursting with opinion and self-glorification.

That’s not always true.  There have been uncountable times when chatting with friends over a beer, or even better, over several beers that I have felt brilliant baubles of wisdom emerge from the deep recesses of my equally deep mind and float out of my mouth, shedding light upon the shadows of ignorance.  Given the steady stares and bobbing of their heads, I know that my friends are more than impressed.  They know what I know. World peace is possible!  If only those who hold positions of power would heed my insights and advice.

That’s not always true either.  There have been many times that I have stood before a university/college classroom or presented findings at a research conference, while a little voice in my head tells me that I am a fake.  Not only has a mistake been made regarding who should be standing in front of the room, but I’m convinced that there is at least one person sitting in that room who knows that I am a charlatan.  As I talk, I look in the eyes of each person, checking for any sign that they are about to jump up and reveal my ignorance to the entire group.  I watch the clock slowly ticking away the minutes, hoping that the end of my appointed time will arrive before any public revelation is made that the wrong person is standing in front of the room.

See my confusion?  Even my doubt is doubtful.  If I am even uncertain about my doubt, how can I be certain that I actually know what I think that I know?