Who am I, who are we?
I hear this question, and I laugh, because for me the answer is simple and complex, wonderful and terrible.
We are businessmen commuting during rush hour, parents chasing after errant children on a playground, congregations kneeling in prayer, and students pulling an ‘all nighter’ simply to pass an exam. We are children, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, cousins, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and strangers. Yet even as we paste a myriad of labels on ourselves to define who and what we are, we encompass so much more than the definitions society and our peers demand we label our existence with. We are simply more- more than just the average human, and that more is what sets us apart and gives us our own part in history.
So who are we, really?
I believe we are hidden, behind eyes and skin and hair and skull. We are writers, artists, musicians, actors; seeing the extraordinary behind the ordinary. We have images, thoughts and ideas that find their medium on paper, canvas, song and stage. We find companionship in the fact that what we reveal to the world can be interpreted differently. We have a need to express our passions; sometimes our ideas fighting their way past the needs of our physical selves. We travel to different worlds, galaxies, nations, cultures, often leaving the mundane reality for stretches of time. We often dance with the muses, knowing that we alone belong to an exclusive group that includes some of the most brilliant minds ever seen. We are found everywhere, can survive anyplace. We record history, our spirits ever-living in the creations we leave behind. We provide a glimpse into the past, while searching for the future. You ask who we are?
We are Life.
This I believe.
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