To me, there is no man or woman, only intelligence and influence. We should simply strive to BE ONE. Be one who exudes grace, kindness and humour.
As I grow older and more confident, I like less and less to be defined by my gender, or for that matter, marital status. “Do not ask me who I am and do not ask me to remain the same… Let us leave it to our bureaucrats and our police to see that our papers are in order,” Foucault reflects in The Archaeology of Knowledge.
Indeed there are many ways in life to experiment, to create or to discover oneself. What is crucial is to lift off the blinkers of unconscious existence and overload of social media to see once again the newness of the world. I cannot wait to explore, in reckless abandonment, what it means to be a survivor in this 21st century.
If being mad means holding on to one’s particularity, I would most gladly drown myself in melancholy. At times, the pain of being misunderstood can be too hard to bear, and the silent insistent poison of loneliness keeps me awake at night, wallowing in self-pity.
At times my ideals are overshadowed by the ugliness of reality, and giving up seems the only way out of all that chaos. Nonetheless I love life with a fierce passion. I continue to be so deliriously in love with life that I never cease to question, to argue, to seek, to spread the word, to write the truth and to dream my vision of the perfect world.
I have often stood before an unsympathetic and cruel crowd who, not listening, have been ever ready to cast stones of condemnation as I remain unwavering in my ideas. I am certain the depth of the disappointment has been mutual.
Like all love stories, expectations and promises have remained unfulfilled, and the vulnerable heart has been broken. I remain pessimistic and doubt I will ever be truly satisfied with the conditions of life, but that does not mean I cannot love it. I love life for all the freedom it brings, despite its lack of meaning and purpose.
Life and and all its imperfections are what make us human and delightful. Perfection is mundane. Imperfection can be as beautiful as it is painful.
These are some of the “imperfect” people I love who are leading the way. When I look at these formidable six, I remind myself not to celebrate mediocrity, but excellence.