Fragility.

Serious blog time...

There's this Ingrid Michaelson song called Breakable. 

"We are so fragile, and our cracking bones make noise.  We are just breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys"

How often we forget about that.  I know I do. 

Ever met those obnoxious folk who believe with every fibre of their being that the entire globe hangs on every gold plated word that leaves their lips?  Who hasn't.  They're the worst, and we all remember them, because they suck so much.  Then, of course, you jump that massive edifice to the opposite end of the spectrum, where we have the ones that honestly believe they could run themselves off the road and no one would care.  Sad, yes, but also a very important part of my point.

Sometimes we forget to be aware of ourselves.  And without self awareness, how could we possibly be aware of those around us?  I'm currently reading "The Book of Tea" by Okakura Kakuzo, which I'm fully aware is a very strange choice for pleasure reading.  Kakuzo writes "Those who cannot feel the littleness of great things in themselves are apt to overlook the greatness of little things in others".  There's no question about why the second aforementioned party is so obnoxious; it's a simple issue of self esteem.  They have none.  They failed to recognize their own greatness, and in the process have isolated everyone else in their lives, as well as the greatness those people have to offer.  Chances are good that their isolated depression has broken many hearts along it's path.  Probably, this lack of self recognition is responsible for a variety of missed oppertunity, lost loves, and missed potentially incredible friendships.  By being unaware of their own greatness, our Silent Depression friend has probably snuffed a great deal of greatness in others.

While we hate to admit it, that little flame of greatness flickers in each of us.  We like to believe we can fade into the background, but the fact of the matter is that we can't.  We're connected.

Why do bank robbers wear masks?  To remain anonymous, clearly.  I'm sorry to burst humanity's bubble here, but none of us are anonymous.  We have friends, families, classes, coworkers, neighbours, grocery store cashiers, and cars beside us on the freeway.  We are far from anonymous, and far from invisible.  We stumble through life like bulls in a China Shop, refusing to admit that we matter, and believing we can do whatever we want, because no one cares about us anyway.  I'll say it once, and I'll say it with everything I have in me. 

You're decisions affect everyone.  Everyone.

Everyone gets lonely sometimes and looks to that one friend who always seems to be up for a little shameless flirting to put you back on your game, but when do we think about the emotions of that poor girl you flirt with?  We seem to believe that our words don't matter and that she wouldn't care, but she probably does. 

We think we're one of millions, of the thousand people I interact with on a daily basis, one won't make a difference.

Sorry to break it to you, but Ingrid's right, we're just fragile, breakable children, and it's time we stop walking around with hammers.

Maddi.