The minute you walk into a learned circle of great teachers—of art, or science, or whatever else—your footsteps sound louder and louder and louder and your shadow becomes thicker and thicker, as if you had a gigantic body. You feel so clumsy entering into such a circle. You begin to smell your own perspiration, and you feel big and clumsy and in the way. Your whole being, trying to communicate with such teachers, is a gigantic attempt to apologize that you exist. Strangely enough, that is the wind of prajna. Knowing one’s own stupidity is, indeed, the first glimpse of prajna, very much so.
-Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, "A Very Practical Joke" (Summer 2007)