This morning, my girlfriend shared a quote with me that struck deeply:
“Every act of conscious learning requires the willingness to suffer an injury to one’s self-esteem. It is why young children, before they are aware of their own self-importance, learn so easily, and why older persons, especially if vain or important, cannot learn at all.”
—Thomas S. Szasz, Hungarian-American academic and psychiatrist
This resonated strongly because it mirrors my experience of studying physics later in life, from ages 29 to 32. Every new concept, derivation, or proof challenges not just my intellect but my very identity and ego. Each new lesson demands a willingness to let something in my old self die, allowing space for a new understanding to emerge.
There’s something profoundly human in this process. Being human seems to inherently involve reinventing ourselves continuously, adapting day by day to an ever-changing environment. Comfort and a fixed sense of identity can become significant barriers to growth. When our self-image is too rigid, it stops us from accepting new ideas, and we risk becoming closed-minded or even bigoted.
Consider someone who builds their entire identity around a particular religion, ideology, or influential figure. Their beliefs become intertwined with their sense of self. The result? Changing their mind or perspective becomes nearly impossible. Their beliefs carry momentum, making the flexibility necessary for growth increasingly difficult.
Biologist Michael Levin describes a fascinating concept called cognitive light cones, an idea borrowed from physics. In physics, a light cone represents the path that light can take through space-time. Levin applies this to cognition, proposing that all beings solve for some goal which is bound by cognitive “cones” through which we influence our surroundings, drawing information from the past and moving toward future possibilities. The “Here Now” circle is very similar to Covey’s Circle of Influence.
When we learn something new, we often mistakenly think of it as simply transferring information from a page into our brains. But the reality is most likely more profound. The paper or book we read represents another person’s cognitive light cone—the accumulated experiences, thoughts, and knowledge from their journey. To truly absorb new knowledge, we must momentarily let go of our own cognitive light cone and merge with someone else’s experience. We must set aside our past assumptions and identities, if only briefly, to truly embrace and understand another perspective.
This merging process expands our cognitive influence. When we return to ourselves, we’re enriched by this broader experience. Younger people can do this naturally and effortlessly because their identities aren’t yet rigidly defined. They easily surrender their sense of self, enter new experiences, and emerge enriched, almost effortlessly.
This contrasts sharply with individuals who hold tightly to their identities. Such people often struggle with growth and learning because they perceive new knowledge as a threat rather than an opportunity. Psychologist Carol Dweck describes this as the difference between a fixed mindset and a growth mindset. Those with a growth mindset effortlessly flow into new forms of understanding, constantly rebirthing themselves intellectually and emotionally. Those with a fixed mindset resist change because they view their abilities and identities as unalterable.
Finally, this leads us to ponder suffering. Is suffering merely the story we tell ourselves when faced with change, growth, or challenging tasks? Buddhism definitely teaches this.
Do we envision difficulties as an infringement upon our comfort and freedom, or as pathways toward self-expansion? Christianity definitely externalizes suffering onto external agents.
I believe that true learning requires the courage to let go of oneself, merge deeply with new ideas, and trust that we’ll emerge enriched, wiser, and transformed.
Growth is not simply about acquiring information; it’s about embracing the vulnerability necessary to reshape who we are, again and again.
The wave must surrender itself back into the ocean, knowing that it will rise again
– Paraphrasing of Richard Rudd (I think)
Also published on Medium.
