What makes us different? Why do we diverge so drastically on how to better the world around us? Don’t we all want the same thing in the end? Guilt-free happiness, right?
Swarm of roaches
Imagine, if your poor heart and constitution can handle it, a mass of cockroaches. They’re milling in an out of a ripped garbage bag, grabbing whatever they can fit though their grotesque jowls.
Do you suppose there’s a vegan, socially liberal, fiscally conservative, extroverted roach among the rest? What about a grizzled, taciturn roach who’s seen some shit and will keep other roaches at arm’s (or leg’s) length, but has a soft spot for poor, undernourished baby roaches?
Can we say that those personalities don’t exist among even roaches, but perhaps our tools of observation are too blunt? Who’s to say?
We need a sarcasm font
I don’t think I’m better than you. Well, most of the time. Sure, I get the occasional feeling of superiority over those around me. Like when I was in college and we’d be discussing some literary theory or text. You don’t have to believe me, but there were many occasions I’d come to some grand conclusion the professor was looking for. I just wouldn’t voice it.
I arrogantly thought to myself that my knowledge of the subject matter was enough and didn’t need to discuss it amongst those who might think they’re my intellectual equivalent simply because we’re studying the same material.
I know, I know. It’s hard to believe someone as humble as myself could be arrogant. *insert sarcasm font*
Of course, I used my silence and arrogance as an excuse to cover up the fact that talking to people I hardly know scared the shit out of me. Still does, matter of fact. I’m getting better, I think, but I think I’m just cut out to be one of those introverted folks.
No royalty amongst the roaches
It’s funny how life’s struggles can have a two-pronged positive effect on you, if you look closely.
For starters, you become humble because of what you’re enduring. Depression has made me beyond (or perhaps beneath) humble. Of course, it’s an unhealthy level of humility. You think you’re a piece of shit who isn’t worthy of an infinitesimal scrap of love. After finding ways to cope with that illusion, I realize my strengths are simply different than yours. And I am indeed worthy of the same amount of love that I give. Though I can’t seem to give more love than I get. It doesn’t feel like a debt, or anything. Love debt, if you will, is a good problem to have.
The second effect of struggling is that you gain a plethora of knowledge, experience and strength. Some might call that combination by a different name: wisdom.
Is it possible to be a wise guy/gal, wise ass and wise man/woman all at once? I can’t tell you for sure yet, but I’m doing my best to find out.