The beauty of the unique path
Some people like to celebrate what they call peculiar dates, say 22/02/2022 or something similar. Au contraire a different set of people, which at times includes me, see this as statistically relevant as much as any other date. In a way it’s not special at all, or special like anything else. Yes yes, it looks funny and it feels different - but just because the representation system we created offer such perks as “recurring weird looking numbers”. For me the time of the day “11:11” is particularly scary, for some reasons.
A great amount of people I know strive (or fancy) public approval, or the ability to influence the public. Being recognised, be able to stand somewhere and unconditionally recognised. Could be because of work, beauty, intelligence.
I am not a religious person, but somehow I call for the bible here:
Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris
I think this is also well backed up by science, we don’t even know how many Big Bang (if any?) happened before us. And life happened randomly, no creators, no cookbook or blueprint.
So where are we going, are we going to survive? Although it’s in the news, I’m not talking about global warming here. Are we going to survive in centuries to come? What about a million years?
If we do, there will be millions and millions of people to remember, if they had such impact… and when there are too many people to remember, nobody is really remembered… except perhaps an important bunch.
If we don’t survive, and things explode and it leaves no trace of us. Well in that case it doesn’t really matter.
So my point might not be very charming but it’s about what’s so special about us, like you or me, not the human kind. And I think what’s truly special about us is our path, how have we gotten from the womb to me, writing a post here and now.
It might not be that special, but like in the dates at the start of the post, every date or number has its own uniqueness. Our life is much more special, even if nobody recognise you, or you don’t feel loved enough, or rich enough.
I’m getting older, and many people I knowed and loved have died, some because they were old and some other because of tragic reasons. When some closest relatives died I felt sad, I cried of course but it took me time to realise what specifically I was going to miss in time:
Someone knowing my path, somebody that could recognise where I’ve been, what I’ve done, be proud of me sometimes, or help me understand when I was going in circle, or just cheers at some old facts. I don’t care much about being recognised by people I don’t know, it gives me a smile, but no joy.
I like to get to know people and their unique path in life. It makes me wonder and get me a step closer to the small fractal behind the humankind.