What is this compulsive need to create heroes?
“But you must have heroes! For isn’t that how you can be more, do more? Or perhaps, look at it the other way around. So you know that being heroic is possible. That it is not for a select few, destined to be “great”, but that there is the possibility of extraordinary in each of us.”
Why? What is this hankering after the extraordinary, this whole making the impossible possible? What is this craving for more? This dissatisfaction with what is there?
“Life cannot be lived in the ordinary. It must have a goal to reach for, a better, higher ground, an ideal that makes you stretch yourself, surprise yourself and emerge better, stronger, and everything in between.”
The purpose of human life is evidently charted out, spelt out for each one of us to follow and aspire to attain. To be the best version of yourself. Who defines this “best”? Not you. For that matter, who defines this “you”? You have history, philosophy and ideology to instruct this self you identify as “you” towards roads worth taking. Is it ever just your journey? What about everything that attaches itself to you, even in your desolate isolation? The singularity with which you define yourself is undeserved and in many ways factually incorrect.
“And yet, I am one. One with all, but distinct. All this philosophizing is great for discussion. But do you want to be (wo)men of thought or action?”
Are they exclusive? How can they be? And what is so wrong about conversation as an end in itself? Why must that be relegated to academic circles?
“Because life is not lived in words, darling. Step out, experience it. You might finally understand what it is all about.”
And you say that is the only way? That the infinite possibilities of life need to be chopped up into little tangible recognized conventions and followed to be made the most of? That if we wish not to be doomed, we must confine ourselves to conformity?
“Of course not. That’s precisely what heroes do not do. They break away, they question, they create their own paths, and walk on them, often alone, but undeterred.”
So we need multitudes to follow a given way so that one among them can discover his own and then be hailed a hero?
“Not quite. You misunderstand. Once again, you are giving in to thinking too much. Empty your mind of all this nonsense. All these silly questions. Just remember – we need heroes. For without them our lives are meaningless.”
Can I be my own hero? What is more daring, indeed nobler than trusting oneself and being comfortable in mediocrity. Ah, how that word pricks. Such an insult. Abomination. but when everyone is rushing after achievement, not joining them can be heroic, can’t it?
“Oh my poor child. How lost you are. You have got yourself all tangled up. All of these are ramblings of a confused uninspired mind. What you need is a hero.”
What is this compulsive need to find heroes?
“But you must have heroes! For isn’t that how you can find you, be you. Come on, enough conversation. Let us go find you a hero.”
“But you must have heroes! For isn’t that how you can be more, do more? Or perhaps, look at it the other way around. So you know that being heroic is possible. That it is not for a select few, destined to be “great”, but that there is the possibility of extraordinary in each of us.”
Why? What is this hankering after the extraordinary, this whole making the impossible possible? What is this craving for more? This dissatisfaction with what is there?
“Life cannot be lived in the ordinary. It must have a goal to reach for, a better, higher ground, an ideal that makes you stretch yourself, surprise yourself and emerge better, stronger, and everything in between.”
The purpose of human life is evidently charted out, spelt out for each one of us to follow and aspire to attain. To be the best version of yourself. Who defines this “best”? Not you. For that matter, who defines this “you”? You have history, philosophy and ideology to instruct this self you identify as “you” towards roads worth taking. Is it ever just your journey? What about everything that attaches itself to you, even in your desolate isolation? The singularity with which you define yourself is undeserved and in many ways factually incorrect.
“And yet, I am one. One with all, but distinct. All this philosophizing is great for discussion. But do you want to be (wo)men of thought or action?”
Are they exclusive? How can they be? And what is so wrong about conversation as an end in itself? Why must that be relegated to academic circles?
“Because life is not lived in words, darling. Step out, experience it. You might finally understand what it is all about.”
And you say that is the only way? That the infinite possibilities of life need to be chopped up into little tangible recognized conventions and followed to be made the most of? That if we wish not to be doomed, we must confine ourselves to conformity?
“Of course not. That’s precisely what heroes do not do. They break away, they question, they create their own paths, and walk on them, often alone, but undeterred.”
So we need multitudes to follow a given way so that one among them can discover his own and then be hailed a hero?
“Not quite. You misunderstand. Once again, you are giving in to thinking too much. Empty your mind of all this nonsense. All these silly questions. Just remember – we need heroes. For without them our lives are meaningless.”
Can I be my own hero? What is more daring, indeed nobler than trusting oneself and being comfortable in mediocrity. Ah, how that word pricks. Such an insult. Abomination. but when everyone is rushing after achievement, not joining them can be heroic, can’t it?
“Oh my poor child. How lost you are. You have got yourself all tangled up. All of these are ramblings of a confused uninspired mind. What you need is a hero.”
What is this compulsive need to find heroes?
“But you must have heroes! For isn’t that how you can find you, be you. Come on, enough conversation. Let us go find you a hero.”
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