One.

As a bee gathering nectar does not harm or disturb the colour and fragrance of the flower;

so do the wise move through the world.

Dhammapada: Flowers, verse 49

Yesterday I was wearing a bright red t-shirt that mum gave me that says, aptly, “In a world where you can be anything, be yourself.”  

My parents have always encouraged me to share my opinions, to ask questions, to change my mind, to stand up for what I believe is true and honorable, and to admit my mistakes and vulnerabilities.  They taught me to use my empathy and intelligence to make ethical choices, even if they didn’t agree with those choices.  Raised by strong-minded, atheist parents while being baptized into the Pentecostal faith by a doting and morally rigid, maternal grandmother, my whole childhood and adolescence was a Voltarian exercise in allowing others the space to air their opinions and practice their beliefs, even if they weren't shared by all parties involved.  For such life lessons I will be eternally gratefully.  I may also be perpetually inquisitive, or hungry for truth, if there is such a thing.

What they weren't able to teach me, perhaps because they didn't know how, was how to cope with the rejection, ridicule, and overarching, aching loneliness that comes with having divergent ideas, rigorous morals and a singular vision that runs counterpoint to almost every single other human I have ever come in contact with or loved.  I have absolutely no idea how to present what I believe in, set boundaries, and be open to other people’s points of view without also feeling a profound and enduring aloneness.  I often wonder if my ideas are just elitist constructs subconsciously designed to separate myself from others as a measure of security, a painful padding against closeness that protects neither the victim nor the assailant (if you can even tell one from the other).  Or rather, as a dear friend likes to remind me, perhaps I just "think too much."

I also don’t know how to accept that other people will continually make choices which appear to be unethical (or at least, morally and/or intellectually lazy) and about which I can do nothing but stand my ground, bite my self-righteous tongue and watch from the sidelines.  I cannot be the world's moral gatekeeper.  It isn't my responsibility.   

In other words, having an identified “self” has led to much suffering, both my own, from dissatisfaction and loneliness, and others’, when I have judged them.  Is there a way to observe the world with discernment, step in when it is necessary to relieve another’s suffering, but to cease making constant comparisons between how things are and the way I think they ought to be?  

What do you think?  Do you ever feel like by "being yourself" you are condemned to loneliness, or even ostracism?  Do you prefer to do what everyone else is doing so you don't feel left out?  Do you think we even have a "self", or is this simply a personal construct we can observe but not buy into?