People are people, too

This is not a particularly novel thought, but I find reminding myself of it every so often is helpful for re-centering and re-establishing the context of life.

People are just people.

Famous people. Poor people. Undiscovered people. Smart people. Useless people.

People you love. People you hate. People you hate to love. And people you love to hate.

People who make you cry. People who you make cry. People who make you smile. People who you make smile.

People are just people.

In our heads—heck, in MY head, I tend to lose sight of this simple statement. I tend to create these fantasies—these MADE UP STORIES about nobility and heroism. About people being more than they are. About them being more or less deserving. About people being somehow SO DIFFERENT from everyone else. About them being different FROM ME.

They are the voices I hear in my head. The ideas that seep into my soul and instincts. They battle one another. I hear influence everywhere. I SEE influence. I see the risk of infection.

And MY MIND reverberates, like a speaker blaring music.

How do I make sense of all of this?

These stories are a mirror into my soul. My soul, aching from self-inflicted insecurity and begging for acceptance. Acceptance by who? And for what? By people? But they are just people?! What do I need them _truly_ for?

People are just people.

They come in all shapes and sizes. I have read my fair share of biographies to know this. I have lately been reading a number of books about inventors. More specifically, the mathematicians and physicists of the 19th and 20th centuries who helped usher in the current period of advancement and growth.

I realize there are special people on this planet. They are people who make an outsized impact on humanity. They work harder. They are smarter. They care more.

But they are still people.

They accomplish UNIQUELY AMAZING THINGS not in spite of the fact that they are human but actually because of the fact that they are human. They lean into their identities. They become more themselves.

If I were to ask myself if I aspire to be one of those people—I think I would now answer no. No one is really remembered anyways.

What I really aspire to be IS THE MOST VERSION OF MYSELF.

Because at the end of the day, I too, am a person. And that person is who I want to be.


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