I question the idea that people know themselves best. I think our perception of ourselves is probably as skewed as our perception of others, not least because we have an intrinsic incentive to view ourselves in the way that allows us to feel most comfortable. You are stuck in your own little head. You can see your face in the bathroom mirror – there is no mirror for your soul. I hit on this idea many years ago and wrote a poem using the metaphor of a tank. It’s exaggerated, but it illustrates the basic idea – we live in semi-darkness regarding ourselves, because we cannot distance ourselves from ourselves.
tank? angel? hitler? I wish I could see myself, I cannot figure who I am so close: Like sitting in an armour plated tank with little slits and you can’t quite see through them and you cannot see the tank because you’re inside it and because it’s dark inside How would you know if there’s a bird on the hatch; you’re painted black; you’re not even a tank, you’re an angel or maybe you’re Hitler himself I wish I could see myself through the eyes of others other tanks, Angels, hitlers, then maybe I would know who I am whether I am painted black if I shoot bombs or cupid arrows
Meditations of Lambchop 