I am no different than most people: I have spent my entire life trying to “be someone.” I sought approval at every turn. I bragged — with bravado so steeped in arrogance that I cringe to think about it now.
In sobriety, I have found a new path. I ponder the vastness of the universe — a place with trillions (or more) galaxies, where each single galaxy contains billions of stars. This leads me to consider how insignificant our own small planet is, in the grand scheme of things. And then I think about each individual human being — the persistent and competitive plight to leave our message with history. What we wouldn’t give to be that movie star, that politician, that model. We crave the attention… to be heralded, admired, and talked about by our fellows.
What life must be like to be free of such desires. How peaceful it must be to appreciate my place in this universe, with humility and dignity — no longer considering, or even caring, about the mad scramble for attention. And what, exactly, does that attention mean to the universe? Does the universe smile when it hears the accolades directed at me, from my fellow humans? Will it reserve a special spot in its domain for me if I can convince other people hold me in high esteem? When the earth is gone, will I be remembered as a great man? By whom? And remind me again… why does it matter?
I have found no greater freedom than what I feel when I divorce myself from the prideful push to achieve fame. But it’s more than simply rejecting the path; I am truly satisfied with everything I have, and I don’t need more. My only fear — and it’s a small one — is that somehow I’ll be pulled back into the game.
Tagged: addiction, alcoholism, Legacy, making your mark, posterity, recovery
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2 Comments
What's in a number anyway?
I have subconsciously allowed numbers to place value on my life. I have always measured my successes on the amount of awards that I have received, the number of friends that I have, how much money I have in the bank, how many performances that I am in annually, how many designer jeans hang in my closet, how many years I have been married, how many degrees I have achieved, how many emails I receive a day, how many people remember my birthday on facebook, and even how many months I have remained sober. Any decrease in these amounts equates to failure in my mind, which means that I'm further away from that ultimate achievement in life….fame. Quantity has dangled in front of me like a carrot on a string for 33 years and I have been chasing it like my life depends on it, and it has, until now.
Quality has slowly started replacing quantity since I have found sobriety. I have gained some humility along with my new perspective, and I no longer care about that ultimate achievement that I used to think was the only thing worth living for.
Beautiful post.