Beloved Insignificant

This film is based on the true story of a doctor (portrayed by the inimitable and sadly missed Robin Williams; rest in peace, sweet prince) who tries an experimental drug on a group of elderly, practically comatose patients. Through the drug, the nonresponsive patients begin to “awaken”, startled to find that the year is 1969; many of them had been “asleep” for decades. The film centers on all the joy and pain they encounter as they begin to reclaim their lives.

One of the central themes is expressed movingly by the first “awakened” patient, Leonard Lowe (played to heartbreaking perfection by Robert DeNiro). He marvels at all the healthy people around him moving so blindly through life, taking for granted the wonders he has only just begun to rediscover: going for a walk, brushing your own teeth, feeding yourself, reading a book, writing your name, giving and receiving touch with another human being.

“It’s the smallest things,” he tells Robin Williams – small, but precious.

Priceless.

Deeply significant.

Upon reflection, I realized that this theme – awakening to the importance of the seemingly insignificant – is relevant not only to the collection of details that fill our lives, but to the lives themselves. The story of this film happens because the hospital staff managed to recognize the humanity in these silent, staring, apparently empty bodies. They chose to believe that each life was precious – priceless – deeply significant.

Beloved.

I have done a bit of pondering on the seemingly paradoxical concepts of being beloved and being insignificant, but not as much as I should. I think all human beings wrestle daily – mostly unconsciously – with these two truths. Many, including myself, tend to tip more one way than the other, leaving our view of the world and our place in it slightly off-kilter. We’re all walking the surprisingly fine line between “It’s nice to see ME, isn’t it?” and “Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, guess I’ll go eat worms” – and a fall either way is perilous.

I believe we must hold both truths together and learn to live out of both simultaneously.

Yes, in the grand scheme of things, we are all rather small, and we ought not take ourselves too seriously. To quote Tolkien (raise your hand if you’re surprised) – or, more specifically, Gandalf – at the end of The Hobbit:

“‘You are a very fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!'”

Yet, we are all – each one of us – beloved.

I have found these musings important of late as I reflect on my own life. In the grand scheme of things, what is it worth, exactly? I wake. I teach classes online. I exercise. I take care of the doggie boy. I cook. I clean. I enjoy good food, good drink, and good stories with the hubs. I keep in touch with family and friends. I pour hours and hours of labor into novels, poetry, and blogs that the vast majority of the world may never read.

Small. In the big picture, insignificant.

Yet, I also firmly believe – and seek daily to understand more fully – that I am beloved.

If I am beloved, then everything I do and say flows out of that love – and that means it is all precious.

Priceless.

Deeply significant.

I have included a poem that I wrote out of these prayerful ponderings. Since it flowed from prayer, the “you” is understood to be the triune God to whom I pray – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

May it minister to you, friends.

Beloved Insignificant

Beloved Insignificant
A paradox refrain
My presence is superfluous
Yet queens make up my train
For while I vanish in the crowd
Or sink under my debt
Still I cannot make me unloved
Nor make your heart forget

Beloved Insignificant
A pebble in the shoe
Of all who think they are too grand
Or far too poor for you
Though I have bowed ’neath crushing waves
And tried the tide to shift
I cast me now upon your sea
Receiving all as gift