As you sit at your computer desk, your cubicle with your computer, as you lay in bed, on your sofa reading these words on your laptop, as you read this in whatever situation this finds you - I ask you three simple yet brutally, beautifully difficult tasks. To feel, to imagine, and to realize.
Feel every sense you can, smell the aroma of Earth, feel your eyes tingle from the brightness of your computer's screen, feel your toes struggling to stay still, feel your heart pounding against your chest, hear the sniff of the man with a cold in the distance, feel the touch of the scroll on your mouse denting the middle of your index finger, feel your tongue click against the top and bottom of your mouth as you read these words - feel until you can feel no more.
Feel the emotion of hatred against the one you hate the most, feel the power of love as you hug your mother, feel the jealousy you always doubt you have, feel the happiness of knowing you are not alone, feel the sadness of knowing you've hurt someone.
And now, once you have felt the slightest of feelings; I ask you to imagine.
Imagine the boy tripping on a rock right outside your house, imagine the girl in China writing in her diary under her covers, imagine the ants you stepped on walking home from wherever you went today, imagine the bacteria on the end of your nose waiting to get in, imagine the water on the moon waiting to be tasted, imagine the blood in your body flowing like a stream, imagine until you can imagine no more.
And now, once you have imagined the slightest of imaginations; I ask you to realize. Realize that you are nothing but one hair on your head, nothing but one pen in a mansion, nothing but one bag in a junkyard, nothing but one staple in stapler, nothing but a pin on a football field, nothing but one fish in the ocean, nothing but one car on the highway. Realize that you are nothing but yourself.
We are all raised with a complex ideology that everyone is and must be different. Yet while knowing this fact, we all seem to fail in realizing that it is a paradox. Our differences are what make us all similar.
We focus the majority of our time on defining our differences, racially, stereotypically, financially, physically - that we fail to focus on our major similarity - we are all human. All capable of the same tasks, same talents, same abilities. We are all born the same. And although scientists and doctors may disagree, the diseases and disorders we are born with do not have an effect on our capabilities. Whether you suffer from paralysis or suffer from cancer or suffer from nothing at all - the factor of "can" and "could" remain the same. There is a difference in what we can do and will do, and you have all the right to disagree with me but understand this - if we all continue to live our lives with the pessimism of differences, when will we come to agree? I would rather live with the pessimism of similarity than the pessimism of differences, because with being similar, with being common, with being equal - not superior or inferior, with being simply human, I can come to realize that indeed, I am not magnificent.
My ego is nothing but a bubble in a universe containing billions of galaxies that contain billions of solar systems that contain multiple planets, including the one which we call home, Earth. If the planet we live on isn't the largest thing on the face of this place, why do we try to make our egos bigger than it? Why are we constantly struggling to be felt, to be remembered, to leave a legacy, to be talked about, to be the center of attention? Why do we try to be worth something to others when the entire point of life is to be worth something to yourself? Why do we battle to be magnificent?
The truth is, we are worthless, but our worthlessness makes us worth something to our own selves. And again, scientists may disagree with me and you may too, but the smallest thing in this entire universe is the ego of the modest man. And our motives and intentions and goals must be directed to the achievement of this highest state of modesty. In fact, the ironic thing about the ego of the modest man is that his ego doesn't even exist, but he is proud to be modest. And that facts kills us all.
Realize the importance of being small, because in truth, the smallest of man is the biggest of humanity.
And at once, at last, we must realize we are not magnificent as anomalies, but anomalously magnificent.