On Being an Individual

I discovered this week what I've been told all my life: I'm an individual. It's hard to explain this realisation purely in words, because they all sound like what I've heard forever. In university I used to tell people, "You're unique, just like everyone else." I meant it slightly sarcastically, but I have finally come to grips with what it means. At least a little.

Perhaps it's of interest what precipated this epiphany: I entered a picture in the local photo club and its was given a lower score than I expected. Enough positive comments were made about it to preclude bitterness, and so I was allowed to wonder objectively what happened. The effort that went into it was obvious, so I'm left to assume that ultimately it was judged to not be worthy of that effort. "If you like that, you'll love this!" has been the presumption informing so many lost causes.

The whole discovery is a little unsettling for a person who needs to engage a wide variety of people. I realised suddenly that I need to keep reaching out for new ways to connect. At a very basic level, no-one can read my thoughts, and no-one can share my exact beliefs. Truly, no-one can fully understand me. Well, I guess I've known that for a while :) It's a fascinating thought, though, because what I really mean is that no-one can fully understand anyone else. It's a miracle that humans have gotten as far as we have. There is a flip side though.

There isn't nearly as much competition for the things I like as I have been led to believe. There isn't an unquenchable market for Pentax equipment (much to Pentax's chagrin, I'm sure). For early 70s Dodge sedans. For old Suzuki 750s. For basement suites in suburbia. But more importantly for creative expression, deeply appreciated or not.

There is a place in the world for me. I don't have to work so hard to make it, or even find it. In many ways it's being provided, and I just have to accept it. And I'm starting to. I'm starting to.