Post 13 | Greatness

Whether my life was meant for greatness or simply the same greatness every other middle class American has seemed to achieve, I will never know. I do know although, or at least was told, that my life began twenty years ago in a natural pregnancy center no less than twenty minutes outside of Boston. I was given the name Ralph, probably due to my father and mother’s obsession with the brand Ralph Lauren. It was the nurse, or I think it was the nurse, who deemed me to hold my mother’s features. Brown eyes, brown hair, and a distinct dimple effect when I smiled. I weighed roughly eight pounds on my first day of life and for some reason was greatly acquainted with the emotional expression of tears that particular day. Although, despite these characteristics and despite my birthplace, I find myself remembering one detail better than the rest. It was said, those twenty years ago on the date of my birth, that my parents believed I was destined for greatness. The reason I remember this, I don’t know. Perhaps I remember because that’s all I heard growing up from schoolteachers and mentors. Although, simply put, I remember just as clearly Benjamin’s parents across the street believing their child was destined to the same thing; greatness. Nevertheless, our parents, better yet society, believed we had been destined, fated, ordained, for something called greatness.

It was a cool November morning as I waited for my childhood friend Benjamin to arrive for our morning breakfast appointment. The location of our appointment was a family owned breakfast nook, maybe a two-minute walk from the Oceans shore. The dining common inside was not only quaint, but also rustic. Two large wooden posts made of driftwood from the area distinguished the entrance. Three large panes of glass served as the eastern wall, which looked out over the picturesque Ocean. The waitress came to offer me a cup of coffee when, not two seconds later, Benjamin came walking in. He was a tall confident man, exactly one year older than myself. Better yet he was my childhood friend. It had been nearly two years since we had last spoken face-to-face. At first glance he did not recognize me, yet after a little while of investigating my familiar face he quickly ran over to give me a big hug like the old days. The waitress seeing this asked if there would be coffee for two now instead. I responded, “Two coffees and two eggs please.” With that we began to catch up on life. 

It had been no longer than five minutes of conversing when Benjamin unexpectedly pulled out what seemed to be a certificate and said, “You remember when our parents told us we were destined for greatness?” 

My response wasn’t an answer to his question but instead a look of puzzlement as to the significance of his certificate.

“All my life I tried to fill the shoes of society and achieve its goals set for me; all for the sake of greatness. Why then, if I am destined for greatness, does this certificate say “Bachelor of Science; Accounting?” 

“Well isn’t that a good thing? You tried hard in school and now you have succeeded.” 

His head somberly slouched down into his chair until he looked up and said, “What is greatness? How is this certificate greatness? People across the globe are accomplishing things. Soon enough, if not already, well have to start mass producing certificates for people who have given sweat, blood, and tears to simply master a subject.”

Hearing this I was appalled, I couldn’t help but think he was bashing my own dream as I was enrolled in college striving after a similar purpose. 

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘Your original; just like everyone else?’” 

“No I haven’t heard that, but it makes sense.” 

“Well that’s what I’m getting at. We’re all a bunch of programmed humans fighting for the same thing, greatness, yet only so few make it. What makes these ‘few’ different from the crowd?” 

The truth is at this point, I no longer felt appalled at his statement, yet in agreement. How could life be so crass? In most cases, diligent hard working people are never noticed for their accomplishments. All they have to bring to the table is a simple certificate. I thought back to what my parents and society threw in my face for years, “You are destined for greatness.” How could they tell me such a thing when knowing the true reality of things? Now sitting, not even having touched our coffee, Benjamin and I stewed in agreement over a very depressing subject.

For whatever reason, whether by sheer rudeness, or some desire for conversation, the waitress interjected, “Its not why you’re living for, its who you’re living for.” I didn’t think she was listening to our conversation, although until then the small size of the dining commons didn’t occur to me. Thinking further, the place was so small I could probably account for half of the conversations being had there that day.

She continued, “Look outside at the ocean. Do you think every animal in there is in constant competition for greatness? Of course you don’t think that. Don’t sit here and dog on your life because your not the next Steve Jobs or Neil Armstrong.”

With that said, frustrated she started to walk away. 

Quickly, Benjamin stood up and said, “Please come sit, we, well I at least would like to hear what you have to say.” 

She paused in her steps, slowly turned around and said, “All I’m trying to say is that it’s a matter of choice. Are you living for God or for man? If your living for God accomplishment; greatness; it doesn’t matter.”

“How does living for God change anything?”

“Living for God means this so called greatness your talking about is nothing. That’s not our purpose for being on this Earth. Greatness is simply relative to your view as a human. A man could discover the World’s next alternative to gas, but if he misses God’s purpose; well your right, he has no more importance than the simple everyday college graduate with a certificate.”

“I guess that’s true, we all die in the end anyways.”

“But do we die with purpose is the question.”

It was all starting to make sense, to me at least. It all boils down to purpose. The truth is we can view people on their accomplishments or on who they are in God. 

Benjamin then leaned over to me pointing to his watch indicating the time.

I said, “I know, its time to leave.”

We looked at each other and then thanked the waitress for her input.

Our coffee was nearly to the floor of our cups and it was getting close for our time to part. I felt at peace. I no longer felt that fulfilling my purpose meant greatness. Even though man encouraged greatness and success as the ultimate goal it didn’t matter. Whether my life was destined for greatness or not I will never know. I don’t plan to know or want to know; the only truth I now desired was my purpose in God.