A Reflection of my incorporation and interaction with the idea of being 'Smart'

When I was younger, mid teens roughly, I came to the conclusion that I was 'smart'. I don't remember why or how I came to this conclusion, I believe it may have arisen from other people telling that I was smart.
I guess I may have been seen as such when looking back and comparing my interests, activities and performances. Possibly even the way that I spoke.
I had an innate ability for sports where I consistently performed above average in any sport that I spent longer than 1 year playing. Often sitting at or just below state level.
I had an interest in reading before most other people my age and devoured a fairly wide range of books by the time I was 14.
At school I received high marks consistently till about my 8th year where apathy took over. Academically I am still capable of attaining high marks.
       
Regardless, I began thinking of myself as 'smart'. I would think of my thoughts and decisions are being 'more correct' or even 'absolutely true' compared to others; that my understanding of life, range of topics, ideas, and experiences were more thorough and accurate compared to most others. Not to say that I wouldn't look for new information though.

At some point I began to notice myself making mistakes, simple and large. I recognized myself as being arrogant and that that arrogance, that proud assumption of intelligence - of being smart/er - was the root of these mistakes. I began to adapt a different approach where the fundamental rule can be described as to not accept that I am smart. I currently adhere to this rule, though with more width and depth born from experience.

If an assumption of 'smartness' was leading to mental mistakes and forgetting then perhaps it would be better review each idea. An approach that turned into reviewing and re-analysing each thought and then each word and then each letter and then the formation of every thought.
A fruitless endeavour, one born from a lack of confidence in my own abilities and ideas, and one that continued to fuel mistakes. Going slowly and questioning each phase "Did I really understand that?"...

Amusingly I'd say that it was when I moved to live with my friend and his uncle did this view begin to change. Each moment was novel, and I think it was because each novel moment was appearing before me faster than I could re-think each moment that lead to thinking on my toes. It was during this period in my life where I began to trust myself. Unfortunately events have occurred that have breached that self trust, although I continue to remember and strive to attain that self trust.

At its lowest and dullest I suppose my memory would still be measurably phenomenal; by concentrating so absolutely that you risked remembering nothing, it could be raised to an astonishing near photographicness. And it was the same with one's other mental functions; they worked best if you took a risk on them. If you tried to work so slowly that you could check every step of what they were doing, they all but stopped working at all. [...] 

 

There is a certain speed at which it is possible to read a book so that you are primarily attending to the meaning of the book. If, then, you are presented with the book at slower and slower rates — one sentence an hour, a few words thrice daily, one letter a day — what happens is not that you have progressively more time available in which to form more complex associations of ideas around the theme of the book, but that, after a time, you lose track of the theme completely. Mental activity, in fact, ceases. And if you were asked whether you were sure that you really understood the letter 'H' which was the letter for today, and whether you were sure that you had thoroughly learnt and understood the way in which it was related to the letter T ' which came yesterday, you might find this difficult to answer. This may appear an exaggerated example; but in fact it scarcely overstates the difference between the two levels of mental functioning, at least as I have experienced them."

Celia Green, Advice to Clever Children, Oxford Forum 1999, p102-103.

To add to this, I think that it's irrelevant whether you're considered smart or not; more important is using your mental capabilities at their fullest without falling into other mental or emotional traps such over/underconfidence or rigid thinking.

I was called 'Wise'

About 2 weeks ago I was seeing my dentists to have a minor cavity filled.

I get along well with both of them, both are easy to talk with and have made my dental trips a lot more enjoyable.

Shortly after they'd filled the cavity, I don't remember the conversation leading up to that point, one of them mentioned that they thought I was quite wise. I found that a bit surprising, I don't consider myself wise and told her so. She gave me a bit of a weird look and said something to effect of "you have hidden wisdom".

It hasn't been something I've thought about for a long time before this situation.

When I was young, I wanted to be like the biblical king Solomon. Able to make the correct decisions.
A little bit later when my interest was on ancient Roman and Greek history and mythology then later Norse mythology, the gods of wisdom were my favorite. Funny that now I think about it, I don't know what made them wise.

I think that wisdom is similar to happiness, it's a byproduct. They don't occur when you try to attain them but instead when other conditions are being met, so I don't think there's much point thinking about being wise or being happy.