How Awesome Are You?

At least once a week, I want to try to post something that will make people feel less shitty.

Sometimes when friends get to feeling downright shitty, I try to post something supportive and it comes out like “huh huh I’d touch your butt”.

Sometimes, though, I am drugged to the gills and very tired and subsisting on porn and Kool-Aid fumes, and I get downright lyrical and say things I truly mean, but forget to apply to myself.  This, preserved for posterity, is one of those comments.

Ezio Auditore: BAMF
Ezio Auditore: Basically, you are this awesome.
Original AC: Brotherhood Ezio concept art, from the Assassin’s Creed Wiki.

You are necessary.

You are miraculous.

You are wolf’s breath and smoke that was books from the Library of Alexandria and air that has vibrated with dinosaur birthing cries and held aloft steppe eagles as they hunted hare and fox, you are starstuff and skin that has felt firelight and you have drunk water that washed over the backs of elephants, you are the rain borne on the wind from farthest shores, and flavorless fragments of a hungry ratsnake’s skin cast off in the grass of some distant field where cattle graze. All of that, little pieces of the world finding their way into you. Extraordinary things.

Our bodies, our brains, may not be the wondrous vehicles that we wish they were, they may not function with perfect grace, even when we love them. They are frequently sources of pain, fear, and frustration. But you are all of those tiny things, and more, and you are not extraordinary because of those things. They are extraordinary because of you. Because of your mind and heart and vision, and your ability to see things and know things, and weave connections together that others cannot see.

All of these things came together, somehow, to make you, and that makes those things incredible. You possess magic. You elevate all that has gone into the making of you, because you are utterly, painfully unique. And that will not end the mad weasel-dancing of our brains, no, but it gives some beauty to it all, and is a place to rest our thoughts when it seems like all that has gone into the making of us is failure, insufficiency, and dust.

We are things the world has made, as amazing and imperfect as we may be, and we can only ever be as it has made us. We can’t be anything else, only work with what we are. Thankfully, we’re amazing, despite being ill-suited for some, or many, things. Sometimes I feel like a mistake. I have heard people say that god doesn’t make mistakes. I don’t believe in god, but I don’t know if I believe in those sorts of mistakes, either. If we’re mistakes, we’re extraordinary ones. I will agree to “flawed”, even “broken”, but never to “worthless” or “unworthy”. Over the way we are made? No, I don’t accept that. My brain tries to eat me on a regular basis. I often wish I was not what I am. It is frustrating and awful and terribly inconvenient and sometimes utterly embarrassing, but it doesn’t make me lesser than any other person made of saltwater and the sighing of komodo dragons.

I have to remind myself of that so often. But it’s truth. I would say “never feel sorry for being broken sometimes” but that’s not a thing that anyone can just do. I’m awful at it. I think it’s just . . . part of the deal, you know? We will always have those moments. I will just say that in those moments, believe those who love you above yourself, because those who love us can see the sheer unlikely glory of us in a way that we are helplessly blind to, no matter how we try to see.

There’s awful things in the world — murder and poisons and disease and parasitic worms and runts that don’t make it — and bits of those brush off on things that brush off on other things and eventually find our way into us just like the beautiful starlight and dust from luna moth wings do, and some people might argue that it makes being, somehow, partly a lioness a little less impressive . . . but . . . I don’t think that’s true. I think all those little darknesses that come to us just from being in the world are important, too, though the things themselves are often things that should not be, and which benefit no-one. But we’re made, a little bit, from darkness, and that makes the fact that we fight so hard and bloody so many spears in the pursuit of self-preservation so extraordinary.

Part of us is battlefield air, or dust kicked up by lethal volcanic eruptions, or water washed through the bones of the drowned, and yet . . . we still make art, have dreams, love one another, laugh at “that’s what she said” jokes. We have our darknesses, some we make and some we are issued at birth and some that’s accidental entirely, and sometimes I think that the most important work someone broken like me can do is transforming that darkness into something we can use, something we can live with. Not into light, but into something familiar, that holds no more fear.

I am not grateful to the world for handing me darkness and pain, but it’s undeniably taught me things I can now use against it. I am grateful to myself, and to the good parts of the world, for making me strong enough to learn those things, and keep fighting. I am grateful for friends who remind me that people are amazing, and I am therefore amazing too, because I am a people.

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5 thoughts on “How Awesome Are You?

  1. Pingback: Respecting Ignorance: Nope. | Silver Into Steel

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