Something Simply Human

There’s something in the air. It seems that I’m on the same thought wavelength as so many of the other authors of the various blogs I’ve been reading, especially Deb. I hope that you don’t mind if I elaborate on some of the ideas you’ve already so poignantly discussed. I just need to write it for myself, or I’ll never remember the thoughts your posts have inspired.

It’s so easy to forget that people actually read your own blog. It’s funny because I spend far too much time reading the thoughts of others, but it rarely occurs to me that people would want to waste any of their time reading mine. I really don’t know who reads this, but I want those who do to know that I appreciate it. There’s something really nice about knowing that people are listening.

There’s something even nicer about knowing that people feel the same way, that people are thinking the same thing, that none of us are really alone. I am constantly amazed by our similarities. I used to find this all rather depressing. To me, it seemed as though it was impossible to have an original thought or idea. Everything’s been done before, been said before, been realized before. We’re all walking in and out of the lives that have come before us, stepping in and out of the shadows of our ancestors. We are not original or progressive. We are human. Simply human.

I’ve spent a lot of time, these past few months especially, wondering about our past. I wonder about all of the lives I’ll never know about, never learn about in school or hear about on TV. When we’re children we’re told the stories of great leaders and thinkers and revolutionaries. We are all taught to have the same heroes, to strive for the kind of excellence they achieved so many years before us. We are told that we can be anything we want to be if we set our minds to it. It’s not really true though is it.

The truth is, most of the world doesn’t know you exist, and most of the world won’t remember you after you’re gone. Maybe it’s depressing and cynical, but I find it calming and liberating in some idealistic way. I mean, why worry then? Why bother trying to live up to expectations or perfection? Just live and live well. Of course, like all things, this isn’t original, but there’s a reason it’s cliched. It’s true. It’s the basis of happiness. We are who we are and that alone makes us special. My heroes are not the great leaders of the past. They are the people in my life that I find special, that make me feel special. If I could, I would list them all here, but I’m certain I’d leave too many out.

The reason I bring this up is that all of you (and simply by reading this you’re included) have changed my life. You are special. It’s important to remember that, to remember that no matter where your path seems to be taking you, or how utterly lost and confused and helpless you feel, you’ve made a difference. You’ve changed the world. You’ve changed me. Sometimes it’s just nice to remember that you mean something to someone. You mean everything to me. You are my heroes.

So with all due respect to past presidents, inventors, philosophers, and superheroes, they are no better or worse than us. They fought the same battles that we fight. They loved and hurt and suffered just as we do. They strived to live the best lives that they could and we continue to do the same. Our children will continue to do the same, and their children after them. There will be tales of heroes from our generation, people we don't even know exist, strangers we pass each day on the street. Anyone can be a hero. Everyone is a hero to someone.

The world has changed of course, and we’ve adapted to those changes, but in essence, we are all the same. In essence, we are all just human. Simply human. There’s something really nice about that.