Merriam and Webster say that “being” is “having a specified qualification or relationship.” They say that to be is to “have objective existence.” And though Merriam and Webster have books to their names, and I am yet to have any, I am drawn to disagreeing with his words. I can agree, however, that having a point to living, a purpose, an objective to why you wake up each and every day with the potential to smile and make a difference is superbly beneficial. But the word that gets me here is specified. That very word makes me cringe inside; it makes me feel like I’m listening to a drill sergeant scream orders, telling me to stand up straight and to not bend my head and don’t you dare breathe! God forbid we breathe differently than someone wants us to. When I see this word, specified, I feel like it’s saying that there’s only one way to live, just one way to be find happiness. It seems that our society is so wound up in what is right for them that we lose sight of what is right for us, as individuals.
I used to think that being different was bad, that being different was wrong and unjust. But the more I realized that being unique is what makes this world so incredible, the more I discovered that I desire more than anything to be that girl, standing in bright yellow while everyone else is wearing black. So often, too often do we lose consciousness of the idea that someone, your neighbor, the man you pass as you parade down the street like you do each day, sure of what you want, feels that the way they want to “be”, the way they want to find their specified qualification or objective existence, is in a lifestyle different than their neighbor, or you, the person they pass on the street. And, above all, what if they aren’t living this way in fear of persecution, or exclusion, or hate? Hate, Merriam and Webster tell me, is to “express or feel extreme enmity.” But, hate can be far simpler than that. The dictionary definition sounds tremendously complex, as if hate is unreachable, as if to feel hatred is to feel power. It almost appears that hating someone should be applauded, like this is a task that is envied and admired.
But, who are we to hate? You are only acting in this manner because you believe that your way of living is the only way, the single best way to live. The way you are, the way you “be”, is not the only way out there. I’ve learned to live for my family, my friends, my art form, writing, my own self. With each breath I take, I thank God for giving me this chance to fill my lungs with new air each day, to try and make a difference by being who I want to be. I thank you, her, him, for making this world so unbelievably diverse and distinctive down to the last grain of sand on the beach, or to the last freckle on the skin of every last person who walks this earth. I thank those who choose not to fear difference, but to embrace it.
And I thank the man walking down the street, the man I brush shoulders with, who hardly knows he’s doing so, for being who he is each and every day, and most of all, for breathing the same air that I breathe and believing that there is no mistake in this. We must be who we desire; we must be accepting to the world around us. We must be okay with error and fault, and we must be different. In order to live, we must first be. It all starts with one letter, one word, one purpose, one lifestyle in a sea of lifestyles. Be.