I’m an idiot.  Or rather, I was.

Looking back about six months, I can’t help but notice how naive and wrong I was about so many things.  Jejune misstatements and patent falsehoods.  I shake my head at my former self.

And that’s a good thing.

I want always to be improving.  If I get to the point where I can evaluate myself from six months prior, and I don’t see any difference from my current self, then I have failed.

I set goals.  I achieve goals.  I learn new things.  I refine.  I filter.  I tweak.  I discard.  I collect.

Juggling: a goal from long ago, finally accomplished.

This is not some sort of desperate race to avoid some depression-driven self-reproach.  No, I think rather highly of myself.  My current self.  That old me?  Well, he was an idiot, but he’s gone now.

And in six months, I hope that my present-day me looks like an idiot, too.