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This is a story about a man with a brain the size of a planet.

His name was Jack, and sadly he's no longer with us.

I, Ben from this human, worked with him at a large call centre provider. I was working in the training department at the time, and I shared an office with Jack, a PhD. To be honest, I don't even remember his role.

Jack had a brilliant mind and we would have long conversations about all kinds of topics. I'm endlessly curious and love speaking with smart people. It inspires me to rise to the occasion, even if I'm hanging on by a thread with what I know compared to them.

Jack's vast intellect led me to assume he was an open-minded person, and he was, to a point. Whenever he was leading the conversation, regaling me with fact after interesting fact, he was relaxed and open.

And yet, he had a hard cut off whenever the conversation turned mystical, spiritual, or too abstract. He very quickly shut it down, unwilling to meet me and explore my own interests.

I found this both confusing and frustrating. Here was someone with an encyclopedic knowledge of many things, and yet even he had his intellectual boundaries. As we all do.

Just like Jack, the frameworks, approaches, world views you have, determine what’s ok and what’s not ok. These are typically your preferences in how you like to work (and live).

Intellectual boundaries might be crossed when someone insists you agree with their point of view and depart from your own. As I learned from Jack, open-mindedness doesn’t mean that you automatically take on other people’s opinions. It means you can see others’ perspectives despite having an opposing view.

Consider your own outlook. Where do you draw the intellectual line with what you will or won't accept? It's worth a thought or two.

You've got this.

Love,

PS. Next week we'll focus on our final boundary of this series: time. ⏳

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