The Fault in Our...Selves

I just finished the best book of my life. The funny thing is, I have this perpetual tendency to deem the book I've read most recently "the best book of my life." Even so, this one is definitely in my top five. The Fault in Our Stars. By the brilliant, uncannily well-spoken Mr. John Green. And as much as I would thoroughly enjoy writing a brief but duly beautiful review of this faultless work, I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to ransack even a moment of what could potentially be a life-altering, new-perspective-impelling experience for you, as a prospective reader. Or more accurately put, as a prospective indulger.

What I am going to do is zero in on a quote that I found particularly alluring. You see, I have this theory that John Green is perhaps the most quotable author of our era. Of course, there are undoubtedly dozens who would emphatically and ruthlessly argue with my statement. But I'm just going to throw this one out on the table. I'm usually an extremely open-minded person. But in regards to this argument, I know for a fact that I am right. Sorry; that was rude. But I digress.

Let us back to the quote at the beginning of this post. Oh, the sweet, unbearably valid words. I'll just break down my interpretation for you. In this world, it is our natural inclination to want to leave a mark, to create a legacy, to outlive our lives in the hearts and minds of hundreds and thousands and millions of people. We are arbitrarily set on a pursuit of showing the world our immense value, and yet, in the process, we relinquish our hold on the love that actually matters, on the recognition that truly counts. Indeed, just as John Green points out in this book, we focus on being loved widely, but not deeply. We are so consumed by "making it big," by becoming a household name, by being named a hero. And I'll admit that I am one of the worst offenders. I often focus on the mere quantity of my impact rather than the quality of my impact. I mean, it's not totally wrong to yearn for fame and renown. But it is totally wrong to let them become your reason for living. Look around you. I guarantee that there is at least one person who loves you beyond reason, who sees what you do and says, "That's what I want to do. That's what I want to be," who knows the unthinkable promise you hold, and in turn, holds fast to you. And my advice? Sustain this; uphold this; never take it for granted. You may not be known vastly and widely. But you are known lovingly. And trust me, you couldn't - and shouldn't - ask for more.

A difficult lesson, but a lesson nonetheless.