What are humans but collages of their life experiences? A tapestry of moments, peoples and journeys.
We come into this world with nothing but our consciousness and as we grow, explore and meet other people, we build our individuality. Individuality is a rather funny word, for truly none of us is original. We are like colourful scraps of paper put together and each scrap is a small reminder of something larger. We are like chains on a necklace, linking to other chains until we no longer can concretely define where our self begins and ends.
Who really am I? I am not one person, I’m a thousand people masquerading as one entity. I wake up on certain days and I am an introvert, who would shy away from every conversation, on some days I am the talkative kid in your class who simply doesn’t shut up. Some days I live in the ordered construction of life, others I thrive in chaos.
And none of these parts is truly ‘original’. I often joke to myself that when I find a new book I enjoy, I somehow mould my entire personality around the protagonist of the tale. It is an amusing thought really, but its deeper than that. We subconsciously collect and copy from others.
Humans often enjoy being remembered. I once described my biggest fear as being forgotten. It’s scary to imagine a day or time where no one would remember who or what I was and truly no mind recalls my existence. It really brings into perspective how short and insignificant human life is.
It isn’t a dark thought, however. If you ever feel insignificant, remember that there is someone whose life you have changed or affected. People are like streams and no matter how gentle or short the stream is, it changes the shape of the rock it passes by.
The same way, you are a collection of the people you have met. I still loop my ‘l’ the way my best friend in primary school did, on every new bag I use the keyring my friends gifted me on my 13th birthday and I laugh a little every time I hear Dusk till dawn because in my head I can still see my friends laugh while dancing to it. There are people I haven’t talked to in years, whom I still remember and tell stories about.
I am a collection of the tiny quirks, tunes and things that people around me have done. Our lives are made up of people, and when these people become parts, many parts remain for a long time.
So, take a little time to be nice to everyone you meet, because you will be remembered. They might forget your actions and words, but they will never forget how you made them feel.