“I need things, you know?” he said, as his friend’s eyebrows raised and eyes widened. “I’m serious.”
“Oh, I know you’re serious.”
“One thing I need–I mean this is a prerequisite to life no different than air–is to be able to make mistakes,” he explained.
“I guess I can buy that. Don’t you have that?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think I do. But then there are times when the pressure to not err is so great that it’s asphyxiating. Have you ever felt that?”
“Uhm…I don’t think I understand what you mean.”
“I mean that there is a feeling, something ethereal, maybe it’s not even real, but I feel it just the same. There is a peculiar feeling I get when I know what the right thing to do is, the right course of action, but at the same time I don’t really want to take that route. It’s like I can see a bunch of infographic style arrows pointing to the right decision, and yet another option, one that is not highlighted, holds greater appeal,” he continued.
“Okay, I think I can say I understand what you mean. If you’re simply trying to describe that you feel like always choosing the right thing makes you feel less than human, or that always choosing to do the right thing makes you feel not alive, then yes, I have felt that feeling. For me, I think I can relate on the patience virtue. I know when I need to be patient, but there are some times I can’t help but ask myself, “‘What am I even trying for here? Most perfect man ever?'”
“Exactly. That’s exactly it. Didn’t someone famous say, ‘To err is human?’ I feel like that sentiment was taught under the premise that erring is only something that happens by accident. What does it say about me if I err on purpose?”
“Uh…that you’re human.”
“Oh. Good point.”