The book I’m reading, “Beautiful World, Where are You?,” made a point that was worth contemplating. One of the themes often touted when discussing the Bible is that we should love indiscriminately without regard to ourselves. In the book, one of the characters made a remark that isn’t that how we feel when we read books? Don’t we fall in love with characters when we know that they can’t love us back?
I know that idea seems common sense, or maybe even simplified, but it highlights an idea worth pondering: I am capable of loving without getting anything back. I’m not completely narcissistic. Even though these characters aren’t always perfect, they often make mistakes and they have faults, I still don’t want anything bad to happen to them while I’m reading and I harbor strong feelings for certain characters even after the reading is done.
I’ve struggled with self identity and self worth. Sometimes, often times, actually, I feel as though I’m a bad person. I feel bad for caring so much about who I am and how I feel and focusing just on my own experience and placing that above other people.
After considering the book’s idea, I can wonder if ultimately I’m not broken. If I’m not beyond hope. There are certain wavelengths that are attuned to who I am and who I want to be. There are certain struggles characters go through, and I feel like I go through with them. There are certain victories I feel as my own. There are certain character traits, moments in life, favorite foods, and every other little thing that makes a character that just resonate with me and make me feel more in tune with who they are, even though they are fictional and could never feel the same about me.
So maybe even though I’m self serving, there is a glimmer of hope for me somewhere. Food for thought.