Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Insignificant

I write a blog. Every week I post a vlog. I have a Facebook, a Twitter account, a fan page and even a YouTube channel. Many strangers, people I have never met or spoken to, know what I look and sound like. People follow my blog. They subscribe to my YouTube channel. Some people even comment on things I post or like my status updates.

I am not famous, nor am I a household name. People don't ask for my autograph, except that one time, which was awkward because I still don't know who the girl thought I was. I hope she didn't sell my John Hancock on EBay. Or, if she did, I'd like to know how much she sold it for.

To me, all this intersnackery is a bit overwhelming and I can't honestly say why I do it. It isn't because I think I have something to say, or because I like the attention. Maybe it's because there are thoughts bubbling up in my head, needing to be released, and this is the only way I can think to do it. If I didn't post these things, perhaps I'd be loopy and weird. Or loopier and weirder.

For the most part, this whole Tee L Tyson thing is a bit surreal. The truth is, I'm no one special. Except to my mother, she thinks I'm pretty damn special. And my dad. My sister might think I am special, but that's an inside joke and really not very PC of us, so I won't share. But in the grand scheme of things, I'm just a blip on the radar of life. Not important. Insignificant.

Not too long ago I came to terms with being insignificant.

Don't get your back up about it. It's okay. It isn't a sad thing to admit. It's the truth. I am insignificant.

You see, I won't change the world. I can't change how people think. Despite my desire to free the animals, stop the pain and suffering and eradicate war and hunger, I know I can't stop these things. They are, like so many other elements of life, out of my control. Regardless if I live another ten, twenty, thirty, forty years, or if I die tomorrow, the world will keep rotating. The sun will still rise and set, the moon will continue to mingle with the stars in the night sky and people will continue to live their lives.

When I die, the world won't stand still for me. And I'm okay with that. Because someone, somewhere will. If only for a second, when my life ceases to exist, a person, one single individual, will stop and take notice. They might even offer me up a kind thought. Or perhaps even two. To me, that's all I can ask for.

For the most part, our lives and deaths won't make an impact. We won't make headlines in the paper. We won't be remembered for all eternity. Books won't be written about us. Our phrases won't be coined. And our faces won't make it onto t-shirts. We will simply slip away and cease being.

If you think about it, most of us, if not all, are only a couple of generations away from being erased from existence altogether. If I die tomorrow, my siblings might teach their children about me and perhaps their children might mention their aunt to their offspring, but eventually, the memory of me will fade.

I find people are afraid of being forgotten, but why? It won't matter because you'll be gone. Many people have been forgotten before you and many more will be forgotten after. We can't control what happens once our physical self passes on, so I find it amusing that we worry ourselves over it while we are here. What a colossal waste of time and energy.

They say life is short, but that's a vast understatement. It's a blink of an eye. I went to sleep and woke up ten years older. Why would I spend any second of my life worrying about what's going to happen after I've shuffled off the mortal coil? It doesn't make sense.

This doesn't mean that you have to stop searching for your happiness or looking for someone to love you. No, not at all. If anything, those things are more important. By embracing your insignificance, you're freeing yourself to focus on more meaningful things. Don't stress over whether or not someone will pay ten thousand dollars for a pair of your undies on the Internet and start focusing on making your heart lighter.

I'm not saying don't try to change the world. By all means, recycle, don't eat meat, protest, make signs, write blogs, do vlogs, stand up for what you believe in and fight the things you think are cruel and unfair, but don't do that for the future. Do it for the now. Because the now is what matters. Life is meant to be lived. Only by living your life, by experiencing all the joys and heartaches life has to offer, will you be able to pass from this life content. And that's all we can ask for. A nice, big slice of contentment.

In all honesty, I don't know how anyone can look up at the night sky, at all those twinkling stars, at the expanse of immeasurable space, and think they are anything but insignificant.

19 comments:

Mr Ellis said...

One day the sun will burn out - making all human endeavour ultimately futile. Gives you a warm, fuzzy feeling, doesn't it?

Jason Matthews said...

You've helped me, Tyson. Thank you for being there and doing that.

Anonymous said...

Each of us is unique and yet, like giant trees and tiny weeds, we share the same sap. Each of us, although seemingly seperate, are one and reside at the centre of the universe - the universe being one's observation of experience as it unfolds.

Feeling insignificant is the exact opposite to feeling totally empowered - both are needed to measure each, otherwise one would be blind to both.

Will the sun burn out if it is only a dream? Will our children talk of us when we are apparently not there with them or are our children also only a part of that dream created by the unique observer?

When you know that you are the source of everything then the answers to all your questions point to one thing.....

Tee said...

I really hate riddles. :D

David Zax: Extremadura said...

What perplexes me is, sometimes, when I ask people their opinions about the whole shebang. A lot of them say to me:

"I never think about it."

And I say

"You mean, you've been alive for thirty years, and the idea of eternity has never entered your head."

And they go:

"No I've never thought about it."

Woody Allen gets a lot of milage out of that type of Bozo.


Well written T.T.

Tee said...

I think those people are lying, Zax. People contemplate the meaning of life and death all the time. Well, unless they are religious. Then they believe in heaven and hell and eternal salvation or something or other. Which I don't get at all.

David Zax: Extremadura said...

I've always had this theory, that a quarter of all people on the planet, have fewer brain cells than Gomez, my cat.

I see that pecentage of people, when they get to a junction, they stop dead and wait for someone to point them in the right direction.

I beleve some of them when they say.

"I never think about it."

I mean, we're left with three quarters who do, that's not too bad.

Is it?

Tee said...

It certainly explains a lot. :D Like people who stop at a yield sign. ;)

Anonymous said...

Hmmm, dead people, cat mentality, 30 year olds.... I wonder how many people believe that if they dance and spit on the grave of a stranger in order to gain brownie points, that dead stranger's spirit will keep chucking spanners in the works....lol

Tee said...

Is this another riddle? :D

Anonymous said...

Someone somewhere always gets them...lol

Tee said...

That made me laugh. :)

Jasmine Walt said...

It's because I have a really big ego, Tyson. Everyone knows that. ;)

But really, you and I and everyone else are more significant than we know. I believe that every single action we do affects someone, somewhere-- I think they call it the ripple effect.

For example, I was sitting at a stoplight the other day and I noticed in my side view mirror there was this little dog sticking his head over the top of the driver's seat and licking this woman's face, over and over, like he couldn't get enough of her. It was a small thing, but it brought a smile to my face when I really needed it.

I will probably never see her or her cute little dog again, but I will remember it, even if just for a little while. And that woman will never know that she or her dog had any impact at all on me that day.

Anonymous said...

How do you know that woman and her little dog even existed? People say they've never seen ghosts. How do they know they aren't actually looking at many of them everyday?

Tee said...

This is getting deep.

Jasmine Walt said...

Bud-- the woman was behind the steering wheel of the car in the lane next to me. I sure hope she was real. O.o

Anonymous said...

You just don't know though, do you? Unless you reach out and touch them, they could be illusions and even when you do touch them, does it mean they are not illusions of a different kind?

anthonynorth said...

Maybe it is understanding our insignificance that makes us significant.

Tee said...

I think you might be onto something, Mr. North.