I know Nothing, and I’m not even sure of that.

Socrates may have been the first to say something like this—but for me, it’s more than a clever nod to humility. Let’s be honest: nobody has ever accused me of being humble.

When I was young, I knew everything.
Ask me about doctrine, science, nature—whatever. I had an answer. I knew.

But “knowing” has a subtle, fatal flaw. Several, actually.

The first is this: it’s almost impossible to change your mind when you think you know something. Real change is brutal. It means ripping your identity up from the roots. It means realizing how deeply your ideas have wrapped around your sense of self.

Take this example: maybe you want to start thinking better of yourself. But then you remember—everyone’s a sinner, no one’s saved unless they’ve met Jesus, who hasn’t been seen in 2,000 years… and suddenly, you’re trapped. You can’t think better of yourself unless you’re willing to doubt.

Maybe sinners can be good.
Maybe sinners have rights.
Maybe if God wipes out the sinners, nobody’s left.

So here’s my pivot:
Let your spirit define who you are—not your knowledge.

You don’t have to know whether you’re good or bad.
You just have to want to be good. That’s enough.

A world built on “knowing” is rigid. Fragile. Easy to break.
But in a world where you know nothing?

Anything is possible.