The Difference Between Knowing and Understanding
- Marshall Sherrell
- Jan 21, 2024
- 3 min read
       There was a time in my life in between the wasted and the fruitful years that I could only describe as clairvoyant. Not in a truly psychic sense, but rather a deep, stark clarity which allowed me to assess the path I was on and the one I had taken - and the steps I would need to take to self-correct. It wasn't a super power of any sort. It was more like I had been given a glimpse of what my old age would be. I could see the longings and regrets that I was in the process of creating. I knew that the sighs and procrastinations would lead me to wasting whatever potential I had.
      But don't we all know that already? It's not revelatory to quip how life is a long series of small decisions. That's simple wisdom; so simple that we all "know" it and usually ignore it. I did too. But at the age of 27 I could see myself getting older and yet not old yet. I wasn't out of time by any means, but I was faced with the reality before me that my life would not suddenly turn unless I put the wheels in motion. No one was going to rescue me from wage labor jobs, and no "right time" would ever come for me to take the steps I knew I needed to take.
      I think the clarity I experienced then was the result of tasting the bitterness of a wasted life - the wasted years in my early to mid 20's burned on my conscience, but they were only a sampling of what was to come. The "I'm tired" excuse or the "I'm busy" excuse would be my company on my procession toward a life of resignation and increasing despair. In other words, my options were to make the best of my deeply imperfect life, or to allow the stubborn despondency which had already eaten away years of my life, to swallow the remaining ones.
      What happened next was not beautiful, balanced, or the slightest bit peaceful. I did not awaken to a true purpose and then step confidently into my destiny. I awoke to survey my life as crippled, with everything set in motion for me to continue doing exactly as I had done before. I was not prepared to change, and the world I inhabited was not prepared for me to change. My survival instincts kicked in.
      I was wild and desperate to salvage my remaining years; I toiled and studied with great impudence. I put nothing beyond my grasp until cold reality proved the objective was beyond me. I didn't fear what I called "true failure," that is, using every resource at my disposal, to my utmost ability, and still not achieving the goal. On the contrary, I told myself that to fail because I was proven to not be good enough, would be the sort of failure I could endure and still sleep soundly at night. What would have robbed me of peace with myself would have been to fail without ever knowing whether I could have succeeded or not.
      Desperation led to audacity, impudence led to innovation. As I strove, I watched the static world yield to the inertia I had created. I learned and continue to learn manifold lessons as I seek "true failure" and embrace the many successes one finds when he fights to survive. There is a lot more to tell, and chapters of my story that are still being written. I hope those who read my stories might also feel empowered to rewrite their own.
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