Today I thought I’d write a brief blog post on Mensa, the organisation that I’ve been a part of for the past couple of years. It’s been a long time since I really thought about this, but a lot of things have really changed.
As Carl Jung once said, “We are a psychic process which we do not control, or only partly direct. Consequently, we cannot have any final judgment about ourselves or our lives. If we had, we would know everything–but at most that is only a pretense. At bottom we never know how it has all come about. The story of a life begins somewhere, at someparticular point we happen to remember; and even then it was already highly complex. We do not know how life is going to turnout. Therefore the story has no beginning, and the end can only bevaguely hinted at. The life of man is a dubious experiment. It is a tremendous phenomenon only in numerical terms. Individually, it is so fleeting, so insufficient, that it is literally a miracle that anything can exist and develop at all. I was impressed by that fact long ago, as a youngmedical student, and it seemed to me miraculous that I should not have been prematurely annihilated.”
I joined Mensa when I was a teenager of 17. Insecure, lacking identity, and wanting to try something new.
Imagine my joy then when I took the test scored a pretty decent score and ended up joining the Society, finding it to be a safe harbor for myself in a strange world.
I thought it was a natural thing to do – to find myself a spot where somehow I wouldn’t feel so alone, to be in the presence of people who were the brightest in the world, who could change that world and make it a better place. There you see, a whole bunch of pivotal assumptions, many of which I learned were wrong:
First of all, I realized that Mensa was definitely a place that gathered people. It wasn’t necessarily a place where the feeling of loneliness would disappear. After all, a person can be alone but feel completely at home, yet live in a sea of people but feel lonely and longing for the connection of kindred souls.
I learned quickly that Mensa was not a place of the brightest; instead, it was a collection of strange individuals here and there, some of whom liked puzzles, others of whom just enjoyed attending events – it was then that I realized that the idea of intelligence was not necessarily the same as intelligence. In its inchoate form, it manifested as an ennui, a disillusionment, and an unhappiness in a crowd that I was now a part of – but that I realize was not filled with what I consider even remotely transformative.
Secondly, I realized that Mensa was not for changing the world; indeed, that didn’t align with how everything was set up anyway, given that the very bylaws of the society themselves say that the society as a whole has no opinion. Still, I was there, just spending time thinking that it would be interesting and that I would find some meaning inside from the people around me – Only to find disappointment, although I should say, that that disappointment was the fruit of my own expectations.
The last of these realizations is something I came to only recently and that took more than ten years to realise… But I think it is quite important.
Like anything in life, Mensa is what you make of it – your expectations, the people you encounter, the conversations you have, and the moments that you share with others. All of which subsist in an infinitely collapsing probability wave function bearing enormous possibilities. That’s not unique to Mensa; that’s true of everything in life. It’s just that Mensa was one of the places where that lesson was learned – an academy in which multiple ridiculous premises came together to form and fashion an arena for the competition of my ideas with the reality that surrounded it.
There are so many other things I’ve discovered about Mensa. Dramas, fights, wars over things that seem apparently meaningless. Holiday gatherings one after another, friendships, meeting people. Realizing that not everybody holds the same image of intelligence. Realizing that you’ve found a safe space to talk about intelligence. Realizing that you can talk about anything and just have to bear the consequences in the many forums that the organization sets up. For those of us who are lucky enough to score in the top 2% in a local test.
Mensa is not a place for changing the world. It never has been and perhaps it never will be. If it does change the world, it is not because of the society in itself, but rather it would be because of an accident and people who came together either by an act of chance or an act of god.
Despite all of the self-doubt, contemplation, and everything in between, it has become a kind of home and a home that I appreciate, a place where there is more to discover.
It is for that reason and for no other reason that I continue to take joy in it. To enjoy the friendship of those whom I’ve met within it – For in it I know; there is more to go.
