You Do Not Need to Be Understood
It’s strangely poetic that many of us are in a constant state of flux, waiting for some sort of spark or impetus to change and to be and to do more.
It’s sad, yet magical in its own way, that people drift through life feeling something is always just within their reach, yet there is always something stopping them from stretching out their hand and grabbing hold. Even when life is tough and we are lost in our busy and shallow lives, there are moments when we become acutely aware that the magic strands of life are there to be grasped, and for a fleeting moment we are filled with hope as we look, see, and feel the potential of threads of possibility.
The end of the year gives many of us a moment in time in which we feel such possibilities, it is a time for reflection and contemplation of dreams, goals, and of ourselves. We are all looking for excuses to be brave and looking for opportunities to be honest and opportunities to allow us to exert a level of control of which we are sorely lacking from our lives.
And so, we choose this moment of the Earth’s orbit to reflect and contemplate.
Where there is hope and endless possibilities, there is also despair and regret; and so too often this time of quiet dreaming and nostalgia is tainted and corrupted by the heaviness of the judgement, pressure, and ideals of a noisy and shallow society.
As I sat and reflected on my own year and my dreams for the future, my thoughts dwelt and spiraled by the usual darkness and dogma of modern life. I pondered just how I should record and share my journey over the next year, how I should track my progress, and how I should announce myself to the world with my accomplishments as evidence.
I found it curious just how much importance I was giving the sharing and recording of my progress, and I found myself drawn to the tree in the forest and the question as to whether it falls and no one is near, does it still make a sound? Certainly, we are conditioned to believe that an experience isn’t real unless we post it and share it with the world.
On a certain level, it is a question as to the extent of which it can exist if it is not perceived or witnessed. For a long time, I have felt as though I have existed in a world between worlds, floating through existence as an observer; aware of all but not quite present.
Perhaps I had held the belief that, much like the tree in the forest, I need to be perceived; I need to be seen and understood, simply to exist. It is the missing piece for many who feel out of place and who feel the constant weight of loneliness amongst crowds of people; it is maybe an easily imagined and rationalised answer - that connection and the feeling of being understood will fill this missing piece in our souls, to finally integrate ourselves into the world, to finally feel like a whole person.
And so it’s undeniable that I, perhaps like many other people, look to share to seek connection; and what better opportunity to share and connect than by evidencing to the world that we exist, that we have achieved, that we are here.
Despite this, there is still something sinister lying beneath the surface that my brain could not quite make sense of.
As I imagine the threads of our consciousness looking outwards for connection, I cannot help but feel sadness and anger.
Initially I thought it to be because of the toxicity and pressure of modern life; social media, the need to impress, the shallowness and performative nature of what it means to be successful in a world that praises and rewards greed - a world that thrives on an undercurrent of hatred and judgment, devoid of emotion and empathy.
As my thoughts spiraled and swirled against a backdrop of curiosity, resolutions, and fireworks; what saddened me is that so many people, including myself, have been searching for connection and reaching out to be understood and to be seen as if to validate our own existence.
We have been reaching out with our arms stretched hoping for someone to see us, and we thought that by being seen we would finally have value to the world; and all along we have failed to see that our value is not defined by how we are seen or perceived, but rather our value is inherent in our very existence.
People should feel honoured and privileged to understand you; the most special treasures that the universe has to offer are one of a kind, and people will spend their lives trying to unlock their secrets. They exist whether or not they are understood, and their value is all the same.
And so those things that I do choose to share with the world, I share not as evidence of my existence, nor for validation or to be seen or understood; but rather because I want you to know that your value and worth are beyond reckoning, and that the universe is made all that better for you simply existing. Some messages are worth sharing, some joys are worth putting out into the world, something beautiful and true should be admired.
And if that does not cover it, sometimes I am simply a little penguin who likes to share shiny rocks.
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