One of my cousins is a neurosurgeon. Yes, that’s right. He’s a NEUROSURGEON.

Now you think I’m even more amazing than before, right? By proxy, while I’m not a neurosurgeon, I must have some good genes unless all his smarts came from his mother. But after knowing his dad, my uncle, and the other siblings, including my mum, I’d guess some comes from our shared blood, too. Yes?

We humans are funny like that. We value a good brain so much that we’ll do whatever we can to measure up.

The way we value smarts does make sense. I mean, it’s important that neurosurgeons exist along with other people with super high IQs, intense grit, and daily can-do attitudes. We need these people to solve our math equations and help us make sense of the mess in life. We need them to craft incredible sentences that push us beyond known worlds. Smart is wonderful.

And sometimes it’s not.

Or rather, the smart culture we’ve created and permitted is not. I’ve encountered the superstar professor, the uber specialized doctor, and other smart humans who, because they’re so smart, have been permitted to be unkind. “Well, they’re good for our department,” so no one dares to suggest a respectful tone. “They’re the only one with this speciality in our area,” so no one stands up to the bully.

Smarts left unchecked becomes poison.

I’d share my own story, my personal encounter just the other day with a smart one who left me angry, tears pouring. But I won’t. Rather, I’ll say this:

To the super smart among us…while your days are long and warm fuzzy time is near impossible with every single soul you meet, your gift will move mountains if you’ll choose to see the rest of us as thoughtful and worthy.

I’ll take my own advice.

Photo by Sofía Moya on Unsplash