Our Own Main Character

Dearest Rachel –

This isn’t the first time it’s been said here, and I can guarantee that it won’t be the last, but it’s dismaying to note how much of the content of this site, these letters, are in the first person. There is far too much in here of “I,” “me,” and “my,” and not nearly enough of “you.” I’ve excused it before by pointing out how nothing happens on your end that I’m aware of (although God knows – quite literally – what myriads of things might be going on over there – would that we could know!), while things keep happening to me as every day goes by for me to report back to you about.

It’s been said that most people suffer from something called “main character syndrome,” where they are the protagonist of their own story. It makes everyone seem like a narcissist – which, for certain definitions of the term, we may all be. It gets me to wondering, though, is who else would fill that role in our minds? There isn’t a person on earth that fills the stage of anyone’s mind the way they themselves do, occupying it twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, from birth to death. Other people will make their appearances – anything less would be a mere monologue, and ‘no man is an island,’ as the saying goes – but they are essentially side characters in the whole grand drama of one’s life. Some may even dominate the stage for long periods of time – parents, spouses, children, close friends. Some will even chew the scenery with the greatest of ham actors (possibly literally in the case of children), but they all either make their entrances well into the play, or they take their bows and head for the wings long before it’s over (or in your case with me, both). Meanwhile, in one’s own story, one remains onstage non-stop, without a break, forever – or at least ‘forever’ in terms of our own perception. So who else would be the main character of our lives?

Granted, we’re encouraged to think of others as greater than – or at the very least, no less than – ourselves, which is a noble aim. But even so, we can’t see the world from any perspective than our own, because that’s the only perspective we have. Even if we were to try to view a certain situation through someone else’s eyes, the best we can do is to imagine how we would react if we were in their position, which isn’t the same thing as having their perspective. They may have different values or opinions, and reach a very different conclusion about their lot in life that we would in the same position.

Is any of that narcissistic? Maybe, but I’d claim that we can’t help ourselves in that respect. We are our own main character, whether we want to be or not – and I’m pretty sure I know a few people who’d rather not. To be sure, I’ll admit I’m not one of them; if nothing else, the fact that I’ve gotten comfortable enough in front of a camera regardless of what any viewers apart from yourself might think of it should be proof enough of that.

Then again, there’s a difference between being one’s own protagonist – which I hereby posit to be not just the default situation in anyone’s life, but an inevitability – and being the hero of one’s own story. We can’t help but be the main character of our lives, but while most of us believe ourselves to be the ‘good guy’ as well, that isn’t necessarily true. Some of us are, many of us aren’t; we’re fallen individuals, after all, and while we can try to be ‘good,’ there always remains the question of what is ‘good,’ and what is good enough – and for what purpose.

Just the question of good can open up a can of worms; there are, after all, some truly awful people who have done truly awful things for what they believed to be for ‘the greater good.’ Even some revered historical figures of history had to do such things for that nebulous concept of ‘the greater good’ – Lincoln comes to mind, and he was excoriated for some of them at the time. Only after the fact was it agreed upon that his actions were truly righteous; in his day, he was polarizing.

Then again, there’s no question about his place upon his own, or even that of the world’s, stage. As for the rest of us, we the ordinary folk going about our day? We aren’t big enough, important enough, and the things we do aren’t sufficient to render us heroes in the world-altering sense of the term. And as for being ‘good enough,’ or even ‘good’ at all, I think that each of us are too close to ourselves to give an accurate judgment of whether the title fits. So while we may be our own protagonist, we can’t claim the title of ‘hero’ for ourselves; it has to be bestowed upon us. All we can do is to try to be as good – as heroic – as we can be in the little things of life. Perhaps someone just as little as we are will notice and consider ourselves as such.

Would such an attitude be considered a form of narcissism, honey? I should hope not. Still, in an effort to keep myself from venturing into such territory, I’d ask you, as usual, to keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m sure I’m going to need it.