At some point our lives, most of us are haunted by existential doubts — questions about self-worth, purpose and the whole bloody point of it all.
Most of us often hunt for meaning, and sometimes we even find it. With time and context the meaning changes, and the quest begins again.
A few weeks back, I had a very interesting conversation, where the question came up:
“I am just one of the eight billion people on this planet. What makes me special, if anything at all?”
It made me think.
The notion that we all are unique and precious has always sounded hazy to me.
More or less most of us face a typical set of challenges and crisis in our lives. Anxiety, panic, insecurity, doubt and fear, we all feel it at various junctures of our daily life.
Often we lament that life is too linear and routine, when it’s not we fret about uncertainties. We are short of money, or the brains to use it well. We fall in love, and we fall out of it. We hate ourselves for decisions we made 17 years back, and we hate ourselves even more for that one decision we did not make 21 years back.
On the other hand, there is a certain set of privileges and gifts, which is distributed equally randomly, albeit in a fairly unequal manner.
Some touch lives; some live a life that’s touched by a kindred spirit. Some are charismatic. Some are sensitive and sensible. Some are popular. Some are rich, some are loved, some are happy. Some have talents that they don’t explore. Some have talents, and they explore them. Sometimes even in as pointless a manner as writing an essay on the possible meaning of life.
Irrespective of all possible permutations and combinations, as an individual human being, our lives are not exactly as unique as we have been told.
However there is another dimension to this experience of being a human. It is bigger and far more fundamental.
It made me adopt a different perspective altogether.
Life is singularly rare in this universe, and an intelligent life form is nothing short of a major miracle.
…
There are more than a hundred billion galaxies in the known universe, and there are 150–250 billion stars in each of them. There are trillions of planets, planetary satellites and asteroids that orbit the stars.
In such a maddeningly and unimaginably vast universe, in the distant corner of the Milky Way galaxy, there is a tiny yellow star. The tiny star is orbited by some planets, one of which is a little blue marble called Earth.
At this point, Earth is the only planet in the known universe, which to our knowledge is home to a diverse ecosystem of life.
If Earth truly is the only astral body that supports life, then the sheer improbability of life in this universe makes being “alive” one of the greatest gifts the universe has to offer.
And there is more to it.
On this earth alone, there are known to be 8.7 million life forms. In those 8.7 million forms of life, there is only one, which has free will.
Only one species has the ability to set a fire, and extinguish it. There is only one living organism, which has the mind to invent and the gumption to innovate. It can create language, music, arts, medicines and machines. There is only one life form which prays to supernatural entities, and has an existential crisis every now and then. There is only one life form, which can war, and has enough weapons to annihilate the entire ecosystem of life on this planet a few times over.
If we add the rarity of life in the universe to the uniqueness of intelligent life on the planet that supports life, then humanity as species is the single biggest anomaly in the known universe.
Even if we keep the impossibility of us being alone in the universe aside, the improbability of our existence is nothing short of mind bogglingly phenomenal.
We as an individual are about as unique and special as a snowflake. But what we collectively represent as an allegedly intelligent life form truly is special and unique, and to me that is where the answer to “what makes me special?” lies.
As an intelligent life form we represent the ability to think and the freedom to act as per our will. As Humanity we enjoy the privilege of choice: the supreme gift of making an informed decision. It gives us the ability to experience, to make sense of the world.
Unlike every other life form, we have at least a partial control on our evolution. We have some control on how our life unfolds, and we have a complete control on how we choose to respond to it.
There isn’t a greater privilege in this universe.
That is why “conscious choice” is perhaps the true essence of being human. And as an individual, how we exercise our freedom of conscious choice is the factor that distinguishes us from each other, making each one of us at the least infinitesimally unique.
Our view of the freedom, however, is often skewed.
The whole idea that freedom comes with consequences and responsibilities is alien to some. The whole idea that we can take decisions that are individualistic sounds inherently selfish to some.
Then there is the vortex of debilitating emotions that we all live through. The fear of consequences, the fear of failing, the fear of change, the guilt of leaving something behind, the pain of being left behind, self-loathing, unresolved resentments, unrequited longings, etc.
We all have our demons to deal with. These emotions often cloud our judgement to such a degree, that we lose our ability to make a rational decision, we lose the will to make a choice that matters.
We carry so much of weight around our necks, that at times we can’t even lift our head high enough to see that the road ahead is fairly clear and smooth.
At such a moment, it is what we choose to be that matters.
We can choose to be kind to the world. We can show mercy. We can choose to forgive those, who might have wronged us. We can choose to smile, even when it hurts inside. We can choose to make someone else smile, when they are hurting inside. We can choose to be constructive, we can choose to be responsive, and we can choose to be responsible for our life and decisions.
Perhaps with far more difficulty, we can choose to be kind to ourselves. Instead of beating ourselves bloodless for perceived mistakes that were committed eons ago, we can show mercy and accept our own humanity. We can choose to forgive ourselves for our failures, and try again; just fail, forgive and try again.
We can choose to give ourselves a chance to explore. After having tried, after having forgiven, after having explored, we can choose learn from all of it, and make better choices.
We can actually choose to be better.
That is precisely what really makes us special.
And perhaps that is the whole bloody point of being a human.
