Celebrating our uniqueness

I'm musical. I love painting with words. But as for actual art, well the self-portrait on the right is about as good as I get. 

I'm a natural mimic and have a tendency to break out into random comedy characters. I began with impressions of the teenage boy next door when I was 3, went on to Mary Hopkin (UK's Eurovision entry in 1970) and Frank Spencer and then invented Belinda Barrington-Blythe, who sang opera in one key whilst accompanying herself on the piano in another. The Vicar actually fell off his chair laughing at her, and he rarely cracked a smile.

 

Belinda Barrington-Blythe

The older I get, the more I wonder who I really am. Who any of us really are. Can we really be so sure about our own identity when we depend so much on the context in which we relate to others? I'm a sister, a Mum, a Granny, an ex-wife, a preacher, a church leader, a mother-in-law, an employee... and everyone who relates to me does so from their own particular context. 

I believe in life after death but as to what form that will take, who knows? Surely I won't be this Me. I've never been very convinced by mediums who pass on messages from the dead about how much they like the new curtains, or remind the bereaved that they loved playing football in the park. 

Surely what comes next will be much... BIGGER than this life? I love being alive and I am sure I'm going to love it forever. Once I'm out of the confines of this smallness, this human-on-a-tiny-planet-ness, I'm hoping there will be no stopping me. And if by any chance the energy which is me just transforms into a few molecules whizzing round, then so be it. 

We do, however, have a say in who we are while we're here. And I suppose that is part of what is driving me to define myself, to find out where I fit in the scheme of things. For I believe we are each of us unique and bring our own tiny self to the All That Is. 

I love the analogy of us as waves on the ocean, all working together to Be the Sea. You can't catch a wave in a bucket. You can observe it briefly, see it moving and watch as it grows and swells, rises and falls, then disappears. Yet the ocean - that remains, with the memories of every wave that has ever arisen. Perhaps we only make sense as a collective. Perhaps we are each of us much less significant than some think.

And yet - there are those moments. Those people to whom we mean the world. Those days when we watch the dawn and listen to the birds singing their blessings, the fleeting joys of life, companionship, shared sorrows and laughter, glorious sunsets; in our watching of the world we add to its beauty our appreciation, and that contributes to the meaning of life.

Whenever the sadnesses of life threaten my peace, when the struggle to be Me gets too difficult and I feel like giving up, I remember this: Each of us has a choice. We can look around and be overwhelmed by the darkness, or we can add Love and Light to the world, using our energy to shine like stars as the Bible puts it, and be a blessing to others.

Our search for meaning has the potential to drive us to a place of fear and madness. 

Perhaps the answers we seek will come to us one day when we least expect them.

Until then, let's learn to celebrate our uniqueness and offer our own special mix of Light and Love to the world.