Are you ever just humbled? Just flat
out brought down a few pegs?
I hate it when someone does this to me
- I find it extremely difficult to take a humbling from someone else. In my defense though, I think it’s an innate part
of human nature to have a knee-jerk reaction when someone threatens our pride. That doesn't make it right, I know. It just makes it common.
But this humbling realization came at
me from myself. [Personally I think
these are some of the deepest realizations – the ones that you come up with on
your own. They seem to leave a bigger
impression, but this could be just me.]
What was my humbling moment, you
ask? I hesitate to tell you, because I
doubt it will mean as much to you as it did to me. I mean, didn’t I just talk about coming to
realizations on our own?
I could wait for you to come to my
realization by yourself. For some, you
already know my new piece of realization. For some, I would only have to
wait a day for you to figure it out.
However, for others I might have to wait until all of my teeth fall out,
and still they may not reach my realization.
I don't have that kind of time.
And besides, I wouldn’t really be writing this if I didn’t plan on
saying something that was at least sort of worthwhile.
So here it is…
Step 1) – Go into a public place (at
least a dozen people or so)
Step 2) – Look around you –
people-watch for a minute
This, my step three, is where I came to
the realization. It just sort of dawned
on me. Every single one of the people
around me has a life that is just as complex as mine. Every single person has a life just as full
of sadness and joy, memories and hope, thunder and daisies, and just as full of
living as my life.
It’s overwhelming to think about.
Suddenly, all of my plans and emotions
and triumphs and challenges seem so small.
I know, I know. By writing this I am admitting to the fact
that I live an incredibly selfish and self-involved life. All this time I’ve lived on this planet and today
is the first time that it has really, really sunk in. Sure I knew it, but I hadn’t realized
it. I think there’s a difference. In my defense though, I think it’s an innate
part of human nature to be selfish. Call
it self-preservation, call it looking out for number one, hey, you can call it
deciding to live your own life instead of living other peoples’, I don’t
care. But still, I think we’re
altogether too selfish too often. Myself definitively
included.
Maybe next time someone snaps at me I
won’t take it personally. Maybe I’ll try
to imagine what chapter their life-story is on, assume it’s a rough chapter,
and let it go. Maybe next time someone
is crying I’ll see their tears, maybe next time someone is yelling I’ll see
their fears. Or perhaps this is just a
lesson that I’ll keep on learning until the day I die.
So here I am, a little person in a big
universe. A little person living with a
pride too large for my taste and a selfishness that I often rebuke myself
of. But tonight. Tonight I’m just humbled at the complexity of
the lives we get to live.
Who is the voice here: Gwen, Danielle, Della? It definitely has the sound to me of a performance piece with all the up and down sides that implies.
ReplyDeleteLet me try to answer my own question. This seems too convoluted for straight-shooter Gwen. I have never, so far as I know, met Della and can't speculate. So, this must be Danielle in a epiphanical mood!
Yes, I think that is a good summary! It was indeed a piece written by Danielle. I had had plenty of coffee and a full day, and epiphanies are never far away when that's the case.
ReplyDeleteSo what is a performance piece?
Imagine this read aloud on a stage. The reader is wearing an Epiphany costume. In the background is a little rhythm instrumentation to pick up the patter of the words.
ReplyDeleteSuddenlyt a dozen people surround the reader, then break away from her and do a little MyLifeMyLife dance shuffle.
The reader stops reading, acts out parts of this, dances with the dancers, begins reading again. Walks over to a coffee maker, pours a cup, carries it down to a member of the audience. Back on stage, thunder, slides of daisies take over the stage. Then the reading begins again.
That would be a performance piece: heightened drama, multimedia, mime, dance, music, visuals, spoken word, etc. This piece struck me as the kind of piece that would work that way.
Oh, okay. I see what you mean about the ups and downs of a piece like this. On the one hand, it might be entertaining enough to hold people's attention. On the other, things might be said simply to be entertaining, and it could come off.... goofy.
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ReplyDeleteI think performance artists and performers generally have to leave embarrassment at the door. Obviously, everything they do on stage is nothing they would do on the street, but that is the way it works. You have to embrace the goofy sometimes in aid of something else. Certainly, you noticed me intentionally doing goofy in class every so often.
ReplyDeleteThe goofy: my wife is part of a group that sings at nursing homes and for hospice patients. Yesterday, there were eight of them coming back in a van from a nursing home gig in Newburgh, and they stopped at the Monroe General Store. Inside the store, these old timers became a flash mob! They sang three songs for the staff and customers, got their coffee to applause, and then became non-goofs again!
The goofy was intentional in class? My, this opens up so much about you! Kidding of course. :) Yes, I see what you mean. I've always been more of the sort that wants to make people cry... so humor isn't within my realm of expertise in writing. Not that I don't want to learn - I'm just out of practice. But I agree - I've done some acting at church and your pride has to stay at the door.
ReplyDeleteI love the story about your wife and her singing team. It makes me want to be a little goofier! I take myself too seriously too often.
You can be funny! But dry, not wet (aka 'goofy'), humor.
ReplyDeleteWell thanks - I must get that from my father.
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