This is an estimate.

It is a gift, yet a burden, to be the smartest species on our planet. To have the brains this mother birthed us is a gift, yet a burden.

We stand on a hill. Maybe the crows and chimpanzees sit with us. The turkeys weren’t invited, more like they weren’t smart enough to invite themselves. Albert Einsteins’ struggle the climb to the summit. Their smarts giving way to a journey to reach the top of that hill. But what is the summit? The answers to everything? God? Another dimension? Chaos?... Many of those on that hill stay put, unable to push themselves up, let alone walk to the top. They sit and speculate nothing, for what is there to learn if you haven’t taken the risk; the risk of falling. So there the smart and curious ones go, crawling, scrambling eagerly to that highest point to see what they can find. Many stop to rest, sitting and playing with the grass under their bottoms. They’ll stay there for months, maybe even years, and sometimes until they die; never being able to see what that summit would give them. They’re left wondering, yearning for more. But there the exceptionally smart ones go; bless those who be blessed with the power to climb this hill. Those at the bottom of the hill can’t see those few with their powerful legs any longer, because they’re too far gone. But up they climb using their brain power to reach the answers. And yet, it’s only a few--the genetically gifted, the talented, the “smarty pants”, the nerds--who near reach the top. Oh yes, and they’re almost there, crawling, scrambling, craving to know what lies beyond sight. It took a lifetime to be in this moment, to finallyunderstandwhateverythingisaboutwhattheirpurposeisonth--and here they are, at the summit. What they see makes them fall, fall to their knees onto the cold, icy snow because they are so far up. Their bones aching, their skin gray, their eyes blind, their hair knotted, and their knees bloodied they fall down the hill. The. Other. Side. Downdowndown they tumble, ragged dolls somersaulting downdowndown. And there the summit is, severing them from humanity. No longer will they share the same love and happiness and pain and tragedy and adrenaline with the rest of the world.

They say the smartest people are depressed. They know too much and are too good for the world they live in. What they know has ruined their perception of “right or wrong,” “true or false,” and “good or bad” in that original world, the part of the hill before the unveiling of all else. After, they have no one to relate to, no one to inspire them. Call me a clueless pessimist who is spewing false opinions and biases. But to be one exceptional mind in 7 billion must make the world seem slow moving. Maybe the ultimate answer it too painful to bear. Maybe that’s why geniuses are so rare. Humanity is protecting us from what is beyond ourselves; what our brains can’t process, grasp, understand. Is this a discouragement to be smart? No. But know that your smarts bite out of your life. The more you know the less innocent you’ll become. It was like when you were in junior high and learned about the Holocaust for the first time and you realized the world wasn’t all “world peace and community” after all. That veil of innocence was lifted. Each year, another was shed. After breaking your leg, after your boyfriend cheated on you, after your mom was diagnosed with cancer, after you lost someone, not that innocent sweetheart anymore, huh? No. Over time you’d be surprised how much you’ve learned. I’m not talking about writing and spelling and jumping rope and paying taxes and driving a car I’m talking about seeing how hard life is. Things won’t be the same the smarter and smarter you get. The more you know the less innocent you’ll be.

So: the blue pill, or the red pill? Would you rather live an ignorant life swimming around innocently like a fish in a tank or would you want to live knowing the “what’s,” the “why’s,” and the “how’s” of the most unanswered questions? If ever you make it to the summit and you glimpse an answer, I will warn you there may be pain, but it was before you fell that there was beauty.