I am not completely sure of why this correlation is so… but I find that most things that are forgotten, whether they be people or things, are truly the most beautiful things in the world that are the most worthy of love.
I’ve traveled a lot in my 22 (soon to be 23!) years of life. I’ve lived across the country in various places from Hawaii, to the deep south, to New England, and now the mid west. I’ve lived in tiny towns where I’m related to everyone I meet and I’ve lived in cities where I know no one but my roommate.
But never in all of my travels have I seen such beauty… such love in the world… then when I am among things and people who have been forgotten by all except those immediately around them.
The places I’ve been within third world countries… the love and beauty I have seen… nothing can compare.
I had the opportunity to live in a small indigenous community in Mexico a few years back. They lived literally in the middle of the jungle.
The poverty of this community was such that I had never seen before. Even the poorest in the United States looked like Kings to these people. They had no money to buy excess of anything… their greatest financial splurge would be on a coke, which was more expensive than alcohol. Clothes were often wholly, torn, and dirty. People were sick and could receive no treatment, because they couldn’t afford it.
But these, who their surrounding society barely acknowledge, were the happiest people I have ever met in my life and experienced the most love between partners, family, and friends.
I worry a lot about how easily forgettable I am. Last year, I became a ghost and it seemed like no one’s life was affected by the fact that I was no longer there. As I said in a previous post… I’m a ghost no longer… but still… I worry that people would forget me if I didn’t remind them I was there. And what makes it worse… is that I don’t feel like that people in the middle of the jungle… I don’t feel beautiful.
I want to believe that inside I am a very beautiful person… maybe that is just a way to cope with my feeling of invisibility. I think it is because I correlate the beautiful (not necessarily physically but spiritually) with those who are worthy of love and have worth. Intellectually I know that I am worthy of love… but emotionally I have a hard time feeling it. Even when someone tells me that they care for me or that they love me…while intellectually I believe… there is always a small but loud part of me that refuses to believe it, because I am not beautiful.. I’m not worthy of love. I’m forgotten but not beautiful.
I wish this part of my brain would listen to logic. But it is very persistent and louder than the rest of my brain.
When I was hiking through a part of the jungle with some friends… we came across an area that use to be a part of the village, but it had been abandoned. There was this small house or perhaps it was a shed. It was forgotten by all except those who stumbled upon it.
I have no idea of the context of this building. Why it was built… what happened within it… why it was abandoned. But it was one of the most beautiful things that I have ever seen. In its broken- ness and falling apart it was beautiful. I can still picture it now. It was like it was giving itself completely to the surrounding jungle. It no longer cared for itself… but became a part of something bigger… something more beautiful.
In its broke-ness, it was beautiful. In its pain, it was beautiful.
I think this small structure that had been forgotten was one of the most worthy of things to be loved. For even though it was abandoned it gave itself to something bigger. The forgotten seem to be the most worthy of love, but yet hardly receive it, except by the rare gazer.
But if the structure could have feelings… was it happy? The people in the jungle were… because they felt love by their community.
If you are to be forgotten, should you be forgotten in order to become a part of something larger or should you only be forgotten after the quick experience of love, community, and friendship?
So should I continue to dedicate my life to something that is much bigger than me… and know that my impact is just going to be a small ripple in something bigger… or should I chase after my dreams of wanting to experience love?
It probably doesn’t have to be mutually exclusive… but I find myself currently on the extreme of both sides… I have the opportunity to grasp one or the other… which one should I reach for?
When I am on my death bed… will I be content with what my life was?
If I’m going to be forgotten either way… should I be forgotten in the fight to better humanity or after I’ve actually experienced life?