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It happens, but most of the time these worries don’t manifest.
Today I saw the President of Georgia. Wow, right? Him, his wife, the boyfriend, myself and a few dozen other people enjoyed the Tbilisi Orchestra conducted by Mariano Rivas. At the beginning of the performance, Mariano Rivas did a little speech, beginning with an attention to us the spectators and Mr. President. Everyone started looking around the small theater.
“Is he really here?”
It would make sense for him to be there since entering the theater there was quite the security check. I looked around as well, but I didn’t see anything. The performance began and it was indeed very lovely. There is something really quite majestic about conductors. They stand there, with their back to you, their heads popping to the right, to the left, upwards and downwards – their entire body dancing away comically but with so much power and emotion it’s almost frightening. The Soloists were lovely and they performed the “Messa Da Requiem” by Guiseppe Verdi, which, since I’ve never heard it in full, was really enjoyable.
However, I’m off on a tangent there. Let’s get back to Mr. President. At the end of the performance, I turned my head to look at the small size of the Theater and there he was, standing proudly with his Dutch wife at his side. Americans in front of us kept looking up at him, others turned around as well. A lot of the applauding attention that should have been given to the Orchestra was distracted with his presence. And here is what I have to say about that.
Really?!
I understand that he’s the boss man of this country. I understand he does great (and not so great) things. I understand that he’s important. Yet, I’ve never understood this notion of fame. Yes, people have great talent and they’re known world wide, but how does that allow them to be elevated on a pedestal. Don’t get me wrong, I am not jealous or bear any sort of grudge against fame in general – I just don’t see how these people are any more important or special than other people. I haven’t been able to see this in the past, nor has it changed recently.
In my opinion, everyone is special. Everyone is capable of doing great things, although it is true that not everyone puts their talent to its best use. However, most of these people don’t do so simply because they don’t have the means to. Would they have the means (and by this of course I mean money and the right environment), they might have been Mr. President at the Rustaveli Theater today. There are many people out there who would be more capable and do a better job than Mr. President, yet not everyone has the means.
Not having the means however, does not mean that it puts them on a lower level of importance. Humans do not have any sort of hierarchy determining their importance – or at least they shouldn’t, in my mind. Every single person in this world is keeping the world running full steam ahead. Every single person in this world is of equal importance – Mr. President, the lawyer, the doctor, the professor, the factory worker, the housewife, the cleaning lady, the sick, the poor, the wealthy. Take one out and there is, all of a sudden an imbalance. Everyone does in fact need each other. We don’t need Mr. President any more than we need that factory worker. Or the Orchestra.
I really thought I had read the novel before. I remember having to read it in one of my European Studies classes in University – I guess I missed that assignment! Although I was positive I had read it, I could not for the sake of me remember what it was about. Therefore, I decided to read it again – or rather, as it so happened, for the first time. After the first few pages I realized that it couldn’t have been that I read this, since nothing seemed familiar. I have a bad memory – but not that bad.
After all the great things I have heard about the novel and the great things that I even believed the novel to be, I was extremely disappointed after the first couple of chapters. Gustave Flaubert’s writing style is lovely, I have to admit that much, but the story bored me to tears. The first few chapters comprised of nothing but some philosophical remarks that I should think are rather common sense and a boring description of what Madame Bovary’s life should have been. I saw the ending already, without having gotten there. Another Anna Karenina type of a woman – romantic in its notion but disgusting in its reality. I have to say, that I was so completely bored with the book that I just about gave up on it. Yet, I felt like I had to finish it. The boyfriend chirps in that it’s a classic, so even if I don’t like it in the end, it deserves to be read. So, I continue flipping the pages unenthusiastically.
Then, I find myself nearly towards the end of the book, the day has grown dark and time seemed to fly by. Furthermore, even though I was rather hungry, I could not tear myself away from the novel. Then it hit me – the novel ceased to bore me and became rather entertaining past Volume 1. The last few chapters were particularly fantastic and although it was indeed an Anna Karenina ending, somehow I managed not to judge it harshly at all.
So, why am I telling you about this book? Because after the boyfriend pointed out that many things in life are just like my experience with Madame Bovary, I realized that that was in fact completely true. How many times do we go through life, having to deal with things that bore us to no end, ready to give up any second – but, if we hold out, if we finish that project or walk that extra mile – we feel a sense of satisfaction that could not be achieved any other way. We see things that otherwise we wouldn’t have seen. We meet people that we would not have met. I’ve talked about this before, but it really does pay off to keep going – one way or another.
I completely didn’t realize that today was Thursday! I thought that it was Wednesday and I thought that the post had already been posted. Good thing I decided to look at the blog one last time before retreating to bed at 4:03 in the morning. My days have been blended together for the last couple of months – having no sense of time can be nice, although it’s not always beneficial.
So, what am I thankful for this week? Oh my, lots.
Now it’s your turn. What are you thankful for this week?
I write about self-improvement. I write about my conception of beauty and love. I write about happiness and traveling. I write about cherishing the old. And I write Monday - Friday.
