Or worse than me. Any sadist or holy renunciant I encounter is going to be somebody I understand, otherwise they are nothing for me.
Likewise it is fruitless for me to wonder about what the world is like minus the limitations stemming from how I understand it, my prejudices or cognitive limitations, because the world beyond my limitations is nothing to me — I will never understand it.
If I have a deep shame that means there are realms of goodness and selflessness and dimensions of truth that are forever barred to me, then so be it. The extent to which I can understand them, and measure myself against those ideals, is exactly the extent that they matter to me and no further.
But it is wrong to say that the world is limited by “me” because my concept of “me” is extremely oversimplified compared to what I actually am.
Every person I will ever meet has a piece of who I am hidden inside them, and until I know them I don’t know myself except crudely and sketchily.
I need to take you seriously to open up the treasure chest of who I am. And I am the same for you.