Philosophy1

We are defined by our surroundings. If I am in an orchard, I am a Man in an Orchard. If my friends are kind, caring, and compassionate, I will probably be seen as a kind, caring, and compassionate person. We are categorized, processed, regurgiated like reused stock footage. One of my most recent problems has concerned this absence of self-identity, a totaly blank slate on who I am. I have made many mistakes in my life, but all of my actions, be them good or bad, stem from a desire to "be someone."

The jokes I tell, the way I laugh, these are things that people see and remember about me. They see me as a friendly, kind, compassionate person. To be honest, that is not true. I don't fit into any kind of pattern; I am, simply said, there. My existence means little to me. I see my life's motivation as to help others, but that leaves an empty shell of a human being inside of me. How much good or evil can I inflict upon the world? I can destroy cities, destroy civilizations, destroy people's lives. Or I can stop war, end discrimination, and save someone's life. Those are changes on the outside world, the reality I have created to satisfy my twisted pleasure. But who am I beneath the actions of the world? Was Hitler a poet? We acknowledge his evil and hatred, but what about his personal self? Was he really a moral person? Did he consider himself a moral person? Regardless of what other people think, we are defined by others. Our opinion of ourselves is an afterthought to the world's, because only a person's actions gets on the news.

It does make you wonder, what would a famous person do when they read about his life in a history textbook? Would George Washington be happy, or disgusted, with our opinions on a man who lived over two hundred years ago? Those are historical figures in the past, what about historical figures of today? How will history describe Bill Clinton, Al Gore, and George Bush? They will describe their actions, what accomplishments and setbacks accompanied their tenure. Or, more to the point, how will society describe us when we die? Will we be yet another souless face in the Obituaries, or will we leave a rich and everlasting legacy upon the world? Who are our friends? When we die, will they truly know and understand us? I don't want to die, not yet. But we must all acknowledge the fact that we all will die, and it will always happen without sufficent warning. There is never enough time in life, never enough to experience everything. There is never enough time to create world peace or to save a person's life. Those actions will last, they will give us meaning and purpose in our lives. What then, for the average man? The man that is unable to create world peace or to wait until someone's life is in danger so he can save them? Where is his legacy, his gift to the world? Is it in the sweat and toils of his labor, labor for the world at large?

Our legacy will survive in those around us. Just as we are defned by our friends, coworkers, family, they are defined by us. I am someone's cousin, He is my cousin. Such is the way the wheel turns. My memories are trapped in a box, deep within my personal self. When I die, those memories are not released into the world, they are buried beneath it. Then those memories must be stored, but where? In print, on a web page such as this? Perhaps. But anyone can see this, it is open to the world. I have a plan. I will do something that some do instinctively, I will bury my memories with my best friends. I will give to those who can understand, I will give them my blood and soul. It is the best way. I don't want to die. I want to live. My friends will carry my body, and my mind.