The other day during lunch, my sister and I were talking about the recent appointment of Brett Kavanaugh to the United States Supreme Court. I won’t debate what I think or feel about Kavanaugh’s appointment or what he did or didn’t do. I think those are things better left to a different arena, and they weren’t the main topic of our conversation. Mostly, what we found interesting was the amount of time spent focusing on incidents which happened decades ago, and the importance those moments were ascribed to the present. All of it made me wonder how we define ourselves, and, when we take it upon ourselves to do so, others.
Looking back at my high school years is like trying to discern details from a faded memory. I see the setting and the faces, and the places we frequented. And there are occasions and events that come to mind, though very few stand out as noteworthy. My college days aren’t a whole lot different. The years begin to run together in a continuous blur of classes, and professors, and friends, and so forth. And while I remember some moments more clearly, for the most part, specific incidents allude me. I’m certain the things I experienced during those years helped shape me into the person I’ve become, but I’d be hard pressed to say that who I was then is the same person I am today.
I believe the same thing can be said for most of us. I would venture that, for many, who we were throughout our twenties, and even our thirties, was more about becoming who we would be, than who we would say we are now.
The conversation with my sister made me think about how we define ourselves, and just as importantly, how we define others. Do we allow for introspection and consideration of the total sum of our lives? Or do we concentrate, instead, on specific moments and incidents which happened at some point throughout our years, believing they tell us all we need to know? And if this is the case, which ones, really, are the ones that matter?
To me, this is particularly poignant, as, earlier this week, I had a conversation with a friend which I found to be disturbing. I’ll call this friend Bob. (Bob is the name The Greatest Kid On The Planet and I always use whenever we need to pick a name for something. This began years ago after seeing, what is now, our favorite Octonauts episode about a blobfish named Bob and his two brothers, Bob and Bob. If you have kids, the Octonauts is a show that just can’t be beat. It’s fun and educational, and when The Greatest Kid was younger, we were absolutely obsessed with it.)
But back to my conversation with Bob. The other day, Bob brought up a particular incident from years ago, during which he says I behaved in a less than appealing manner. This is something he’s mentioned before, and I was surprised when he brought it up again.
I clearly remember the day in question, and while I don’t remember that particular event in the same vein, I would admit, it probably wasn’t one of my finer moments. But more importantly, I remember what I was feeling at the time the incident occurred, and the things going through my mind, things my friend couldn’t possibly know, because he’d never thought to ask me.
What I found most disturbing was that someone I knew decided, without question, that a simple, single incident somehow defined me as a person, without asking me anything about it.
What is still frustrating to me today, is that I’ve seen my friend do things that, in my opinion, are far worse. But I’ve known Bob for some time, and I know him well enough that I never related those instances with whom I believed him to be as a person. Unfortunately, my friend didn’t see fit to extend me the same courtesy, but rather, instead, described me as being “cold”, something I am anything but.
I suppose what was most disappointing about the entire exchange, was realizing that someone who I thought knew me well, it would seem, actually, doesn’t know me at all.
All of this makes me wonder. If we can quickly and easily judge people we know, then what of others? Do we carry around preconceived notions and paint pictures in our heads of people we barely know, or don’t know at all, based, simply, on what we may have seen or heard?
I don’t believe that one isolated incident can define any one of us as a person. But what of the other events that take place in our lives?
Most of as, at some point, will experience times when we feel things are out of our control. These unplanned detours often come as a shock and jar us from our daily lives. Suddenly, whether for days, or weeks, or even a season, we find ourselves tangled in circumstances which take us outside of ourselves, and all we can do is hope to survive.
Often, when dealing with a crisis or a trauma such as grief, or illness, or loss, we can feel like we’ve become someone else. We feel stripped of all that we have and all that we are, and the aftermath never comes easy. It can take us years to put ourselves back together after struggling through situations we could never have imagined.
But these departures we take from our own selves, whether for an instant, or close to a decade, do not define us. They are, as I said, detours, paths we’re forced to follow and find a way through. And while we may not know, or even like, the person we become during the process, it’s who we are when we reach the other side that really matters.
Perhaps, with this in mind, before we take it upon ourselves to judge others, we should first consider our own lives, and decide whether we would like to be thought of in the same manner.
Would any one of us like to be defined by the mistakes that we’ve made? Or the moments when we’ve felt we’ve lost all control? Do we want others to see us by the months or seasons when we’ve felt most unlike ourselves while navigating through traumas we couldn’t foresee?
And what about the incidents that come and go? Would we choose to be characterized by the moments when we’ve faltered, or when we’ve failed miserably, or the times when we were, simply, less than our best?
I think when we judge, it says more about us than it does about others. We cannot begin to know another by a single incident, or even by the season of an entire lifetime, which may be filled with trials and traumas and circumstances we could never understand.
It isn’t impossible that any one of us could wake up one day and realize we’ve become someone we don’t recognize. And it can take us months, or a year, or sometimes longer, to find our way back to who we once were. And while those periods of crisis, and, yes, even the fleeting moments, often change us, they certainly do not define us. It’s who we remain on the inside, when we reach the other side, that makes us who we are. And that is what truly matters.
M.C. Greene
(Photo by Yoann Boyer)
P.S. How Is Your View?