The Power of Being Human?

Have you ever thought about that? Really thought about that? Being human is so special—yet, we don’t give it a second thought. When you look at the people around you, you might get the feeling that people give little thought to themselves. Many of us don’t feel important enough to care. It seems that our bodily form is something we take for granted or worse criticize. Somehow the body “is not good enough, not thin enough, not tall enough, not muscular or pretty enough, not successful or rich enough. It’s the wrong shape, the wrong color, the wrong “some” thing!” Somehow it’s never enough! From that perspective, how can we ever become enough when we’re only thinking of what we are not? Why not think how marvelous you are? How wonderfully you are made? How beautiful the body truly is when we look at ourselves objectively? The body is amazing—that’s the truth! How the body function is sheer magic. That’s true for our minds, too. We have the ability to think, solve problems, dream and create unlike any other form of life. Yet, we rarely appreciate that fact. Think about that. When was the last time you stopped to appreciate that you are an incredible form of life? More than likely you take it for granted and

don’t think about it. Take a minute and think how amazing “being human” really is. If you did, maybe you would come to see yourself differently? You have the ability to be, to do, to experience life like no other form of life. Yet, you criticize, blame, and express unhappiness. When you stop criticizing yourself and others, and use your speech to appreciate this gift of life, then you’ll see how wonderful life really is!

Today’s Story is about Eleanor and how she came to understand there’s more to “being human” than she thought.

* * *

Eleanor, like most people today, wants to “fit in.” She follows the rules, goes along with what is expected, not realizing that she’s robbing herself of something special—being herself. When she was a child, Eleanor drew pictures because she enjoyed expressing herself. She drew many subjects: the neighbor’s cat, a bird in a tree, a caterpillar. Anything that sparked her desire to express. As she grew, her drawings became better and better. Yet, this skill, honed over many years, “had to go.” Art was considered foolish for a girl who couldn’t afford to be an artist. Her mother said to “give it up”, and so she did.

It wasn’t until she was in her mid-30s that she took an assessment of her life and wondered “what if?” That “what if” moment happened unexpect-edly while grocery shopping. On this particular day, Eleanor was eyeing a product on the shelf when she accidentally bumped her cart into that of another. The older woman was initially annoyed, until she looked at Eleanor quizzically. Eleanor stared back, stretching memory cells as an image of the old woman’s face came into focus. Of course, she’s my high school art teacher! Apparently, the older woman recollects who Eleanor is, as they both smile, their eyes brightening.

“Miss Fray?” Eleanor asks brightly.

The older woman looks at Eleanor.

“Yes.” Miss Fray responds.

“Miss Fray, I was in your high school art class.” Eleanor confesses. “I’m Eleanor Williams. Remember?”

“Yes, remember.” The teacher replies with a smile. “You were a wonderful art student... Where are you displaying your work now? I’d love to see what you’re painting.”

Eleanor becomes silent.

“I don’t work in the art field.” Eleanor responds softly. “I gave up art a long time ago.”

Miss Fray becomes solemn. “Oh, I see. We all make changes, don’t we? So, what are you doing now?”

“I’m a waitress.” Eleanor responds candidly.

“I see.” Miss Fray says quietly. “Are you happy?”

Eleanor looks at Miss Fray blankly.

“Why do you ask?”

“Are you happy with this line of work?” The teacher repeats.

Eleanor stares into space for several minutes, slightly annoyed that this woman is unveiling a truth, she is determined to hide. The truth is she hasn’t been happy, but there isn’t much she can do about it. She needs to work and this job pays the bills.

“Truthfully, I hate my job but I have to work.” Eleanor confides, surprised by her openness.

“I wouldn’t ask Eleanor.” Miss Fray continues “But you have a gift. Not to express that gift is to deny yourself and others the joy of that expression.”

“Joy of that expression! Work means to be unhappy. That’s why they call it “work.”

“That’s one way of looking at working, but there are people who go to their job happy to be there.”

“I can’t imagine being happy to go to work. It’s work. It’s hard and it pays the bills. That’s it!” Eleanor replies.

“Yes, Eleanor, we all need to make money, but you have a gift that could provide you with an exceptional income if you only applied yourself. Not to do that is to lose yourself completely by being someone who isn’t happy.”

“Miss Fray, I don’t mean any disrespect, but I can’t afford to “be true to myself.”

Miss Fray studies Eleanor for several minutes.

“Eleanor. I understand this may be — “Then, she stops, looks at Eleanor squarely before speaking.

“When you go to work, how do you feel?”

“Numb—most days. I go through the motions. It’s a drudge, but I did it.” She confesses. “Most mornings I force myself, thinking of the bills I have to pay.” Eleanor confides.

“It may have been years ago but how did you feel when you painted?” Miss Fray asks, scouring Eleanor’s face.

Eleanor pauses for several minutes. She’s never forgotten how painting made her feel. Those are feelings she keeps deep inside. Looking away, she feels the sensation now, like an ocean breeze blowing her hair, carefree in the wind, as the spark of satisfaction consumes her. Her breathing slows to a steady rhythmic motion. She feels exhilarated.

“Yes. I remember.” Eleanor replies, her eyes now bright with the fond memory.

“Does being a waitress do that for you?” Miss Fray asks searching.

“No! Of course not! But I can’t afford to paint when I have bills to pay!”

Miss Fray becomes silent, watching Eleanor, while she struggles with being true to herself. Then, she shares her honest assessment of Eleanor’s situation.

“Just because you work doesn’t mean you “can’t afford” art, too. I sense if you sit down and ask yourself how you can do your art the answer will come to you.”

“Ask myself!” Eleanor blurts. “What do I know?”

Miss Fray shifts her stance.

I know this may sound odd and not what you expected to hear meeting me today, but I feel I owe you my honest feelings. You are truly gifted, Eleanor. To deny this talent is to do a grave injustice to yourself. You must find a way! And yourself knows!”

“How can I know what I don’t know?” Eleanor asks.

“Trust me when I say this, but answers come to you intuitively. You’ll be surprised when you ask, and listen. It doesn’t cost anything and it might lead you to the satisfaction you deserve. Try it tonight before you go to sleep.” Miss Fray smiles before moving her cart to finish her grocery shopping.

Eleanor’s eyes follow Miss Fray as the woman walks down the grocery aisle, pondering what the teacher has just told her.

Ask myself?! Her mind is spinning. Why on earth did I meet this woman today? Ask myself!

Eleanor walks out of the grocery store.

I haven’t touched a paintbrush in years. Can I still paint? Ok, I’m asking myself what should I do? Should I paint or not paint?

She feels an urge to stop at the art supply store before returning home. Once home, she puts the groceries away and sets up the easel, the canvas, the paint and the paintbrushes. Then, she stares at the blank canvas.

This is awful.

She decides to put on some music, thinking that might inspire her. She listens to a few songs and although it’s relaxing, it doesn’t drive her to paint. With a sigh, she decides to go outside.

Once outside, she sees a merry squirrel, chomping on a nut. Watching this squirrel, Eleanor smiles, watching this furry creature relishing his good fortune. The rodent flicks his tail back and forth, expressing his obvious joy. His jerky actions are comical, causing her to laugh. The squirrel pays no attention to her. He is engrossed in enjoying this oversize nut. Eleanor decides this squirrel is a face she must capture.

Rushing inside, she grabs a piece of paper to capture this moment of bliss in nature, while the squirrel continues to joyfully eat a nut. With a few quick marks on the paper, Eleanor has an outline which she later uses to paint “Buddy The Nut Lover!” She is surprised how good the painting is, successfully capturing the soft brown eyes intensely enjoying an afternoon snack.

The joy of painting returns to Eleanor, who feels exhilarated that she captured this squirrel on canvas so quickly. Clearly, she hadn’t lost her touch. With this art expression, she is determined to continue, now that she feels confident she can paint again. She decides to continue this craft, painting as soon as she comes home from work.

At work, she finds many subjects to paint, especially customers with interesting expressions. Sometimes, when business is slow, she pulls out a piece of paper to jot an outline, which she later completes on canvas at home. Over the next few weeks, her body of work expands.

One afternoon at work, a customer notices Eleanor jotting quick outlines of customers. He questions what she is doing, which Eleanor confesses shyly that she paints.

Intrigued, the customer asks her to bring a sample of her work to his art gallery. Delighted to share her work to someone who appreciates art, she brings several paintings to his studio on her day off.

He is truly impressed by her style and wants to sell her paintings. Eleanor is flabbergasted.

“Really? You think I’m that good?”

“Good? You’re an amazing artist! I’m surprised you don’t have your own show.” He tells her.

Then adds with excitement. “What am I saying? You can have your own show here!”

Eleanor is thrilled. Her own ‘Art Show’.

On the evening of the show, she sees Miss Fray, who is delighted to see Eleanor’s body of work beautifully displayed on the gallery walls. Eleanor is thrilled to see Miss Fray because she wants to thank her for inspiring her to paint.

“That day in the grocery store, Miss Fray you changed my life. I am so glad, I bumped into you!”

They both laugh.

“Eleanor, I am so glad you are now expressing who you are: an artist. Expressing your true self makes all the difference, doesn’t it?”

“Absolutely, I had no idea how pitiful my life was until I saw that squirrel and captured him on canvas. Yes, I’m a waitress— maybe not for long as my work sells! But, even as a waitress, I have grown as a person, trusting my instincts and feeling good about “being me.” You did that Miss Fray. Thank you.”

“No, Eleanor. You did that. You decided, you wanted more— to be more, to be you! Now, you are blessing yourself and others with your talent.

Congratulations!”

* * *

Eleanor’s story is how you can change your life when you believe in yourself.

Ask yourself: what talent do I have that I have yet to express? Don’t let fear stop you! Logic may say it’s not possible, but find a way and express your talent anyway. When you do, the results may seem magical, like it seemed for Eleanor when she became inspired to paint again. All it takes is belief. You’ve got that! Because you’re a human. From someone “who never tries,” you can become that special someone who expresses the beauty from within. That’s joy!

Self-belief is a special part of being human. After all, only humans can learn to have self-belief. It’s one of the reasons why being human is so special. It helps you grow into a life you’ll love. All because you grew to believe in you.