How can we not be afraid of being idiots?

Internal version” is a notion used to describe the substatic, extremely influential and extremely hidden part of each of us. Deep down we fear being idiots. It's what we suspect we're in our darkest hours and it's what we just have to accept, with humor and elegantness, that often, of course, we are.

A good life is not when we fools believe that we can kill or avoid the inner cidiote. A good life is one in which the only possible art for us - a sensitive coexistence. The inside idiot makes himself big and small at different times. The idiot is clumsy: he forgets names, forgets important documents, pours food on his shirt, and takes kisses wrong. Sometimes he speaks inappropriately, interferes with inappropriate times. It's buzzing and frying. He is angry only because he is temporarily ignored. He sees plots against him, where there are only accidents, and he gives himself justice when facing even the slightest criticism. For the idiot, there's always somebody else to blame.

The inside idiot is a child on a bad day. We know the inside idiot and we can assume he's unique. In fact, it represents what might be called low “ ” of all mankind. It's just the remnants of good behavior that have made inside idiots of others less visible to us and therefore make our idiot look like an innocent exception.

Most knowledge consists of accepting that the internal idiot will never leave and in understanding that we must therefore try to form a good relationship with him. Trying to stop the exit of the inner idiot inspires a series of unfortunate traits. For example, we may lose confidence and grow up to be patient and very careful in order to show ourselves acceptable to others.

We may not invite someone to go out with him or ask for a raise, then we may never go on trips alone, or we may not give a speech in public, all these movements that require a calculated risk of being kidnapped by an idiot. Or else, by denying the idiot inside us, we can grow up to be very pomposal and rigid people.

Nothing makes us look more absurd than our persistence in our seriousness.

In our relationship, there can be no greater genes than telling your partner/partners, early on, how is your inner idiot; to give her a road map and always apologize quickly and warmly when she invades us.

None of us should try to find a partner who lacks the inner idiot [is impossible]; we need to find out more about the kind of idiot they have.

In a smarter world, a completely standard and not offensive question at a romantic dinner would be: “Describe your idiot?

The best school to learn about the inner idiot is comedy. The point of comedy is to expose stupid actions in a way that makes charming laughter, not harsh kryticism. Artists stand-up, know how to rewrite their idiot kindly and teach others to do the same.

Love is another solution to the inner idiot's problem. In its most mature sense, love means suddenly meeting [the accountant] and eventually embracing the other's idiot and taking him not in fear or as insults but with all the imagination and geneticity that a parent can see with the two-year-old child until he gets angry and burns his cheeks.

It's not so good to have the idiot inside of us. Actually, it's an endless concern. But we cannot ask for anything else.

A wise society would be too ambitious to understand, accommodate, and forgive our inner idiot inside each of them and be devoted to finding solutions to softening and limiting his influence.

It's one of the greatest human achievements that we can finally get away from the point of thinking of someone as the loving “

The School of Life, Periscope.