I Won't Wait for Others to Reject Me
In Masonic tradition, there is a procedure that precedes initiation itself: the ballot. A candidate submits an application, and the members of the lodge are called upon to express their judgment through a secret vote. White and black balls become symbols of a collective decision: whether to admit or reject someone who has knocked at the door.
But I won't wait for someone else to drop the black ball into the urn. I'll drop it myself.
I have no need to await the judgment of a community I have no intention of joining, nor to entrust a group of people with the power to decide whether I am worthy of admission or possess the qualities required to become one of them.
My black ball is not a rejection imposed on me. It is a deliberate choice. I am not the one being turned away; I am the one refusing to enter.
And that distinction is fundamental.
I am not acting out of hostility toward Freemasonry, its rituals, its symbols, or its beliefs. I have no interest in determining whether its initiatory doctrines are true or whether its traditions preserve some particular form of knowledge. Everyone is free to embrace their own convictions and join whatever organizations they find meaningful.
My concern lies elsewhere: I belong to myself, and I feel no need for collective recognition to establish my own worth.
The Price of Belonging
I am not naive enough to believe that the world distributes opportunities solely on the basis of merit. There are environments where connections matter more than competence, where knowing the right people opens doors that remain closed to everyone else.
In certain settings, including some African countries, membership in influential networks can affect career advancement and access to positions of power. I do not intend to generalize these dynamics to entire countries or continents, but it would be equally naive to ignore the influence informal networks can have on professional and social life.
Could I gain more by joining such a network? Could I find protection, advantages, and opportunities that would otherwise remain beyond my reach? Possibly.
But I ask myself what I would actually be paying for what I receive.
I would rather have little that I have earned through my own efforts than much obtained through someone else's protection, especially if that protection might eventually come with strings attached. I do not consider accepting help dishonorable. No one builds a life entirely on their own. The problem begins when a favor becomes a permanent obligation, when gratitude is demanded in the form of obedience, and when keeping a position requires me to remain silent about what I believe or support something I do not agree with.
At that point, even success loses some of its value.
What good is a prestigious position if I cannot exercise it according to my conscience? How much does an achievement truly belong to me if my ability to keep it depends on the will of those who helped me attain it?
I refuse to pay for a privilege with my freedom of judgment.
The Cog and the Clock
This is where the image of the clock comes in.
I could join an organization, earn an important position within it, and even become indispensable to its operation. I could become the largest cog, the most valuable component, the one everyone considers essential.
But I would still be a cog.
Its importance depends on the mechanism in which it is placed. It can influence the movement of other components, but it does not necessarily determine the overall direction of the clock.
I, on the other hand, want to be a small clock.
I am not interested in becoming more powerful or prestigious than others. I want to build something with its own logic, its own rhythm, and its own direction. A mechanism that may be less impressive, but whose workings I can understand and for which I can take responsibility.
I do not need to dominate other clocks or prove that I am superior to those who choose to belong to an organization. I simply want to avoid becoming part of a system in which my function is determined by a will other than my own.
This does not mean rejecting cooperation. I can work with others, learn from them, form alliances, and take part in shared projects. But I want to do so on the basis of common goals, not an obligation to belong.
A small clock is not entirely self-sufficient. Rather, it is a project whose direction I can recognize as my own and for which I am willing to take responsibility.
I Do Not Confuse Freedom with Loneliness
I do not automatically consider someone who rejects every form of association superior to everyone else. There are communities that enrich their members without stifling their individuality, friendships that demand nothing in return, and organizations where discussion allows everyone to grow.
My position is not a rejection of all belonging. It is a rejection of the idea that, to get ahead, I must necessarily surrender part of my ability to make my own decisions.
Freedom does not mean living without ties. It means being able to choose which commitments to make, which responsibilities to accept, and when a collaboration is no longer compatible with one's principles.
I am willing to ask for help and acknowledge my mistakes. I can change my mind, accept criticism, and discover that someone else is right. I do not need to be infallible to be free.
What I refuse to accept is that the need for protection should become a permanent condition of my existence, or that the price of an opportunity should be the surrender of my conscience.
I know this choice may cost me important opportunities. I do not expect consistency to be rewarded every time, nor do I assume that those who choose a different path are necessarily less free. I simply accept that my own journey may be more difficult.
I Cast the Black Ball Myself
Let us return to the urn.
A candidate who submits an application agrees to be judged by a community. Admission depends on rules and procedures that the candidate does not entirely control. The candidate may be accepted or rejected for reasons that will not necessarily be disclosed.
I choose not to go that far.
I cast the black ball myself.
I do not need to know who might approve my application or who might oppose it. I have no desire to entrust a vote with the outcome of a decision I have already made within myself.
My black ball is not a condemnation of Freemasonry, nor does it represent any moral superiority over those who belong to it. It is simply a refusal to embrace an affiliation I do not consider necessary to my life.
The world will continue to reward connections, protection, and the ability to find a place within the machinery of power. I have no intention of pretending these advantages are irrelevant. But there is a difference between using relationships without surrendering one's autonomy and eventually identifying one's own worth with the place a network assigns.
I choose to build my own path, accepting the risk of making mistakes without a protective network behind me. I would rather answer for my own decisions than have to justify them to someone who believes that granting me a favor has earned them the right to influence my choices.
I do not consider every sacrifice a victory, nor do I regard every success achieved with the help of others as a defeat. I simply know that there is a point beyond which material gain may come at too high a price.
For me, that point is reached when I can no longer exercise control over my own will.
I do not want to become the most important cog in someone else's clock. I want to build a smaller mechanism, perhaps imperfect, but capable of moving in a direction I recognize as my own.
That is why, when I stand before the urn, I do not wait for someone else's verdict.
I cast the black ball myself. I'd rather be a small clock, responsible for its own movement, than a prestigious cog forced to turn according to someone else's will.
