“What Does It Mean For You To Be Human, To Be Alive?”

It means hurting and feeling and trying. It means being so painfully and impossibly imperfect but trying not to hate ourselves for our imperfections.

It means forgiving. Ourselves as much as other people.

It means being at once so incredibly fragile and all-powerful.

It means work. Work to not simply coast through our existence. Work to appreciate what we have and who we are and the things we’re capable of. Work to appreciate others and what they have and who they are and the things they’re capable of.

It means being open. To other people, other ideas. It means trying not to judge someone or something right away. It means allowing for the possibility that our minds could be changed.

It means trying to uplift others along the way. It means realizing that we’re all connected.

And sometimes it means stopping. Stopping to think. Stopping to consider. Stopping to understand that we’re here.

It means facing things we don’t want to face. It means enduring the unpleasantness of life because sometimes we have no other choice.

And perhaps most of all, it means understanding how daunting and terrifying it is to be human and then doing it anyway.