I have thought for some time that what I wanted to be, more than anything else, was original. 

To be original…what a supremely difficult task in a world of 7 billion people where every persona, no matter how idiosyncratic, has its replica somewhere.  How difficult it must be to be original when from the moment we wake up in the morning, to the moment we go to bed at night, we are inundated by the ideas of other people. Information lies at our fingertips. It swirls in clouds of sound waves and video images, hovering around us as we go where we go. To have an original thought- an idea not planted in your mind by a talking head or a pundit or your teacher or your mother- how rare. To resist the urge to mimic those you idolize and admire in mannerisms and ideology- how trying. Yes, I have thought before now that to be original was to be in some ways extraordinary: certainly a personal state worth pursuing. 

But I have begun to question the value of being original, or the emphasis of originality over everything else…especially truth. I have never thought that originality was worth the cost of balance or stability, or sanity. And of late my understanding of what I take originality to mean has changed; I no longer believe it necessary to have a truly original idea to be an original person. One can be original in presentation, and most definitely in valuation: what value we give to things. But even so- what does it matter that we are original? The pursuit of originality appears more to me now as a search for an identity, and the search for an identity is defined by recognition. 

I believe now that the search for truth is the most important thing that an individual can embark on. If originality is the byproduct of this search, all the better, but never the focus. The question of “who we are” is answered better by what we know and what we believe than by how we appear to the world.  People have a tendency to devote great energy to refining their tastes, their preferences and appearance in an effort to appear original, unique, interesting. The pursuit of originality is, in large measure, the desire to be different, and difference in an of itself has no merit. The pursuit of truth, undertaken sincerely, allows for self-realization—that is, perfect comprehension of what it means to be an individual and of the significance of the “self.” To understand the meaning of our own lives.

 I have lost interest in the means by which I come to the truth, as I see it. All that matters is that I arrive there, or that I am satisfied that I have arrived. There is great value in originality and creativity, but they are not ends in themselves. They must be balanced by the importance of the end aim. Art may be valued for its originality, but I believe it should be valued it for what truth it embodies. Yet just as with art, the truth is what we believe it to be. We cannot see truth unless we allow ourselves to see it, and outside of this truth has little meaning for the individual. 

Frederich Nietzsche said, in the most offensive way possible, that the only true words spoken in the New Testament were those of Pontius Pilate. “What is truth?” he asked of Christ. I would have asked the same question.

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