Please Lie to Me

I would rather you be able to tell me a lie, than for someone else to take upon themselves the authority to decide for me you can’t.
As much of a bumbling idiot as I may be, I doubt there’s anyone smart enough to decide such things for me. Specialized expertise only goes so far. Consider the obscure martial art called “Chi Gung” (AKA Qigong) — go ahead and look it up. I’ll wait.
What sort of effort does it take to absorb deadly blows without harm? Given my limited experience with martial arts of various sorts, I have no doubt people can develop such abilities, but at what cost? The investment of every hour, drawn from however many you have, displaces something else you might have been doing. It’s all well and good when you are utterly certain it’s your calling in life. That’s not the point. What cost is this expertise in terms of what other things you didn’t experience?
The master of Chi Gung isn’t going to share much with me. He may not have the slightest interest in what matters to me, and rightly so. I don’t have much need for getting a hard swung baseball bat to bounce off my stomach without injury. In some 55 years of living, nothing like that has happened to me, yet. He does, I suppose. His world is one place, and mine another. I don’t begrudge, nor belittle, his choice. Does he belittle mine?
It’s not possible for anyone to come to the place they honestly believe they can choose better for me without also coming to place they are ignorant, or even hostile, to what I believe about the world. Then it is no longer specialization and following that calling voice. Then it becomes hatred, which does no one any good. Yes, I propose to be an expert in such things.
I propose to be expert enough I won’t let you do that to me. My response options may be limited by things beyond my control, but somewhere, somehow, I’m going to assert that ineffable insistence I get to decide certain things. If I’m deluded about that, there is really nothing you can do.
You should be free to cower at the feet of anyone you choose. You should be free to believe the world is such a place this is in your best interest. You are not free to decide that for me. I’m pretty sure what I’ve done with my life up to now is the equivalent of that Chi Gung master in his own art. I’ve learned enough to let lies bounce off me in the sense they won’t ruin my day. If I believe something which turns out false, I’m still on the right track. Even if my belief ends up killing me, it’s that freedom to choose which I insist on claiming.
So go ahead and tell me whatever you want me to believe. I might believe it; pretty often it simply won’t make any difference in my world either way. I’d rather take my chances with your veracity than with someone else trying to actively interfere.