I’m not arrogant.
Well, sometimes. But mostly it’s just a case of my obstinant, one-track mind colliding with my youthful pride to create something distressingly similar to arrogance.
When I was younger I liked to fiddle with things, turning them over and over in my hands; lego blocks, or machinery for example. Sometimes, I would get so frustrated trying to make it work, but would be damned to let anyone else tell me how to do it, or let them do it for me.
I developed a curious habit.
Whenever a person, my dad for example, reachs in to help I shoo his hand away. It’s not really a slap, more of a back hand flick, preserving the challenge for myself.
Growing out of this habit, and the mindset in general, has been slow despite deliberate effort. Though, this is not entirely a bad thing. I am a believer that making your own mistakes and learning your own lesson is vital to becoming an elder.
The challenge for me, for any one my age, or anyone who will one day be my age, is deciding which paths to forge and which footsteps to follow in.