That makes sense

Why me? This question has haunted me for some time. I now realize the answer is obvious.

 I am an improbable entity. The chances of my existence are incalculable.  That I exist at all is nothing short of a miracle. I know miracles are generally reserved for gods or their progeny. And to that I say, in the immortal words of Paul McCartney,” let it be.”

 This is not to say that my miraculous status is any more significant than yours. But the story of my unlikely existence is uniquely and peerlessly mine. The connections that I have made in my life have shaped my legacy as well as yours. Be it my family, my friends, my work associates, my theater cohort, or the millions of others who have become part of my life, I am humbled, elated and yes, apologetic. The fact that you are reading this now becomes part of my legacy and how it spreads from here is further added to my story even if I remain oblivious to it or you think you have dismissed it.

I can’t tell the whole story of my life. As I look back on my life experiences, I can recall where I have made connections and see how my influence or presence may have had a significant impact. But the ripple effect that extends past those remembered events is beyond my knowing.  Besides my wife and our progeny, I remember others whom I have met. They married, they had children, they got hired, fired etc. Who knows if or how my connections may have influenced the decisions of others or may have changed the course of their existence. How those connections changed my own course, even if I cannot connect the dots, is also my legacy. If I had influence in the lives of others, it was more often coincidental than intentional. I can’t know how I have changed the course of existence in its totality because each interaction was dependent on the others involved and on their subsequent connections.

I remember a recurring dream I had in my younger years. Maybe you had this dream too. It was usually my waking up and opening a door that I should not have opened. Behind this door were many people who I knew; parents, friends, teachers, and others who I didn’t know or who I had just recently met. It was a very large and diverse group, but each was familiar to me if not by name, then by type. They were all oblivious to my presence, as I immediately deduced that I was not supposed to be there.  They were discussing something about me; something I had done, something they thought I should do or something I shouldn’t have done. They were getting together to discuss how to deal with me. How to punish, reward, or encourage me, all the while wondering and speculating about what I would do next. They were conspiring about me without my input. The nature of their discussion led me to understand that the rest of whatever was waiting for directions about how to deal with me the next day, what scenarios to set up, what news stories to put on the air that I would see, etc. it was like everyone had nothing else to do but worry about me or more incredulously, concentrate exclusively on doing whatever because of me? Realizing that not only was I not supposed to know what they decided to do but something told me that I didn’t want to know; because it would destroy the balance of nature or something. The whole point was that I didn’t know what was coming next and they didn’t know how I would react. My knowing would have destroyed everything. To pull back the curtain would expose the conspiracy. So, unnoticed, I closed the door, returned to bed, knowing that the whole world was waiting for my next action. There was a sense of security in knowing that they needed me, for without me there was no purpose in existence. But I felt a definite burden to do the right thing as everyone was depending on it. I had to be careful not to let on that I knew everyone was conspiring against me. But I also knew that if they were expecting me to turn left and if I turned right, it could create a crisis at the next meeting of the cabal. But not knowing what they had decided, I couldn’t know for sure if my actions were expected or unexpected. That was the point; I couldn’t know. I had to decide for myself.  I remember that this dream didn’t cause me great trauma or angst, but more an understanding that what I did would influence and shape the whole of existence. They were all anxiously waiting for me to act. They were depending on me to lead the way, without ever letting me know that I was.

Now on the face of it, this is a very selfish aggrandizement, that somehow, I was the whole reason for existence. That I could do anything I wanted, and the rest of the world would just have to deal with it. And beyond that, I was invincible because, well, what would everyone have to do if I wasn’t around for them to worry about. They had to protect me. There would be no reason to go on without me. But on the other hand, everyone was watching, depending on me to show the way. How I acted would change the course of existence. So, what I did was of the utmost importance. How did they want me to act? How would they judge me? Dare I disappoint them? What should I do? Because, well, it mattered that much.

Did you share this dream? Was it just my conscience playing with me? Was I paranoid about what others were saying about me? Was it a pang of guilt because of a choice that I had made?  I’ve always had an overactive conscience. I tend to think it shaped me to some degree. Gave me purpose. But I recall it now because it seems to answer the question, “why me?” It’s simple. Because, what I do matters. What I do next like a stone thrown in the water, ripples endlessly in all directions, with large rapid immediate repercussions and longer, further reaching consequences with no noticeable end or obvious effect. How big a splash I make is up to me. Do I dip my toe to test the water or go all in with a belly flop?

It is interesting to ponder how much I have mattered and to whom and whether either of us even know it. I also wonder how much others affected my choices. What is clear is that we are all connected, that we all have a legacy beyond our knowing. What I do is inextricably and pervasively woven into the fabric of existence. When I am gone, my legacy will continue to ripple through time. Till then what I do matters, to me and to you, even if we can’t see it. Why me? It’s because, without me, there is no we. Can we say it together? Without me there is no we.