People are a curious thing to me. Each of them, unique. You can’t really compare people. Sure, you can take some similarities about them (physical descriptions, emotional experiences, spiritual beliefs, etc) and try and put them into categories to become mathematical statistics, but at the root of it all, each person, the whole of them, cannot be compared to another person.
I’m not much of a people person outside of immediate family members. I prefer being by myself. I prefer doing things on my own. I prefer not having the responsibility of having to account myself to another or to account another to myself. But I like to talk a lot. I guess that makes me friendly in a way, because it’s easy to talk to people. Just say hi and go from there.
This world, the people in it, I don’t understand any of it or them at all. I don’t understand their actions. I don’t understand their reasonings. I don’t understand what kind of people they are and if it’s even appropriate to call them people at all. It’s so confusing.
Everyone in this world wants love. They want happiness. They want family. They want belonging. They want freedom. They want life. They want kindness. They want help. They want pretty much the same thing as the person next to them. But who loves? And who gives happiness? And who contributes to family? Who helps others belong? Who stands up for freedom? Who protects life? Who is kind? Who helps another? None of them. And it confuses me so much because I don’t understand. Everyone, every person, wants all these things, but doesn’t help anyone else, and sometimes doesn’t even help themselves. How can the world magically shift and change and utopia be created with no one wanting to do the work or with no one putting forth the effort? It will never happen. None of it. None of these wants. None of these things. None of it will ever happen.
It’s such a simple thing in my mind, these are such simple things: to love, to give happiness, to contribute to family, to help others belong, to stand up for freedom, to protect life, to be kind, and to help others. Why is no one doing it?
Selfishness, ego, and pride, three terrible things that destroys everything good and worthwhile.
I was once asked what good things I did that helped someone else out. Did I go volunteer at the homeless shelters? Did I feed the hungry? Did I leave bags of groceries on door steps anonymously?
I’m not a people person, I said. If someone was to wait for me to suddenly be inhabited by the spirit of Mother Teresa (which will never happen as I’m against possession), then they will wait forever. It’s a strange thing, that people want an itemized list of good deeds to measure someone with. Does doing good things and having people know about them, winning awards for them, being featured on television, does all of that really make someone a good person? People should just be kinder. People do not need to win awards or have the praises of others to tell them they’re doing something good. But that’s the world today. They all just want to see. Show me what good things you’ve done. Show me.
I can’t. I can’t show awards and medals, certificates and video links, testimonies and work hours. I don’t have any of that. And I don’t want any of that. What good does any of that do me? You help someone. You tell other people about it. They praise you on what a kind, wonderful person you are. Why did you help someone? Was it to help them or was it to help yourself? The things that people do in secret will be shown outwardly in their lives. I’m not a people person, but I have plenty of friends, and my friends are happy with me and I’m ok with that.
If we didn’t live in a society of show and tell, our world would be a much better place, a kinder place with gentler people who didn’t require rigorous testing to be deemed worthy of anything at all. Every person is unique. Every person is worthy of all these things: love, happiness, family, belonging, freedom, life, kindness, and help.
People hurt. They experience such bad things. How does that not give them sympathy for others that are hurting too? How does pain harden hearts instead of softening them? I don’t understand it. We’ve all experienced disappointments. We’ve all experienced loss. We’ve all experienced abuse. We’ve all experienced bad. How do we all just draw up into our own little shells, trapped in our own little worlds, ignoring everything and everyone around us? Is our hurt that bad that we cannot comfort another from their hurt? Are we afraid of being hurt more? What is life if we stand still, trapped in a cage of our own making by the experiences we’ve gone through and all that we’ve suffered?
The past is gone. It may hurt. It may take time to heal. But it’s gone. It’s over with. And we move on, eventually. Somewhere, a caged bird flies free, whether that cage is of our own making or the entrapment of another, somewhere, a caged bird flies free, not looking back and not trying to be caged again.