I wish I was Elizabeth Bennet...or do I?

“Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can.” ~ Elizabeth Bennet
“What do we live for, but to make sport for our neighbors and laugh at them in our turn?” ~ Mr. Bennet

*******

            Occasionally, while giving rapt attention to a conversation that is utterly engaging, and not at all allowing my mind to wander, I have been guilty of something terrible. I have been guilty of finding the person I am conversing with to be amusing, when they were being perfectly serious, or perhaps short-sighted, as they propound some shallow belief that is clearly a regurgitation of something someone else said. Other times, I have been having a conversation with someone and I have been overwhelmed with amusement at their idiocy. It is truly terrible, I know, and I acknowledge it here, on this blog, to my utmost shame.
            It isn’t fair to laugh at people when they are being serious, or to assume that you know if they believe what they are telling you they so fervently believe. Whenever this happens, I always wish that I was Elizabeth Bennet. She would keep a straight face and kindly encourage the person to continue making a fool of themselves. And she would have no guilt laughing about it later.
            Of late, I find that I cannot in good conscience encourage people to make fools of themselves. I am happy to tell you that I have recently reformed from this sort of behavior. There is a very particular reason why, which I am going to share with you.
            Foibles and weaknesses. This is what I used to amuse myself with. I enjoyed them as though I was above them, and that was the problem. I should not live my life as though I am above everyone else. That is so Darcy-ish and no one will like me if I act that way.
            I have tried to reason that as long as I don’t amuse myself with seeing through my friend’s follies and oddities and whatever else strikes me as funny, as long as I stick with people I don’t know, it is okay because no one will be hurt or offended. But there is no way to escape how judgmental that is, and being judgmental of people I don’t know is even worse because I don’t know any of their story.
            I know this, and yet there is still a big part of me that wants to provoke the Mr. Collinses of the world into defending their ridiculous ideas and then laugh at them in my sleeve. There is a part of me that wants to walk the room with the Miss Bingleys because they are so absurdly sure of themselves and puffed up and yet I know they won’t get the boy.
            But I keep coming back to one question: Who am I in this version of life? Am I Elizabeth Bennet, who is so proud to be above everyone’s petty weaknesses that she almost misses out on the love of a lifetime? Am I Mr. Darcy, who is so prejudiced against certain types of people that he misses out on good-natured friends? Am I Mr. Bennet, who is so content to observe that he becomes nothing more than a slightly entertained alcoholic who no longer truly participates in his own life? Is being any of these characters really any better than being a Mr. Collins or are people provoking me into giving a lecture on eccentricities in others while they chuckle to themselves about my own weakness?