When I walk into a room no one notices. Standing among a group of people maybe one of them asks me a courteous, inconsequential question. If I sit down I melt into oblivion. No one notices. When I get up to leave no one stops me. I am gone. And no one notices my absence.
I own a cell phone—but no one ever calls; sometimes, not even to return my call. I post a message on Facebook, or Twitter. No comments.
Where I work I have reconstructed some of our procedures to be more efficient. Someone else took the credit and was never questioned. Of course, I never spoke up about it to anyone.
When it comes to deep relationships with men, or women…, well—same story. No one wants to know me. So I withdraw deeper into my isolation and tell myself this is normal for some people. I know I am lying.
I am nobody.
Too many of us suffer from a form of isolationism that deepens with the years. Sometimes that self-seclusion is learned through the berating and rejection of others: sometimes it is self-imposed. Throughout my own youth I was constantly told I wouldn’t amount to anything. For a time, I simply accepted it. When I grew up it was an astonishing revelation that I could actually accomplish some things of significance. People who knew me were surprised; so was I.
It is true, “Ships are safe within the harbor; but that’s not what ships are built for.” You have been created by God to make a difference during your time on this earth. Have you discovered what it is? I encourage you to try something new, anything; although, if you have bad luck, sky-diving should not be the first venture. Eat new foods, get lost on a country road (er, with a GPS device nearby), read outside your normal purview; try sports (maybe not Rugby). You have not been designed to hide your life under a soggy cloud.
Now get up, get out of bed, and try to make someone else’s day! You are not nobody. Live with it.
For what it’s worth,