The "I'm Special" Falacy

Of course we're all special.  We are unique.  We are fabulous.  All that.

But there are moments in life where we are graced, with a big fat slap in the face, with the profound realization that we are also NOT special.  In Law of the Desert Born, I wrote a line that said "You can die out here just like anyone else."  And that line came from a time when I was much younger and went through a very scary situation and realized, absolutely and realistically, that I could die out here just like anyone else.  I was not special.  As much as I wanted to be, I simply wasn't.

I'm going through a second such time right now.  And I'm watching how my brain wraps itself around this news, and how my brain (under normal circumstances) has created a lovely cocoon of denial to prevent exactly this understanding.

Here are my "I'm Special" mantras:

• I work hard on all fronts.  I am paying it forward ... and nothing can happen to me.
• I am a good mom, and wife, and daughter, and friend.  My love for the people in my life, and theirs for me, will win the universe's heart ... and nothing can happen to me.
•  I'm pathologically honest.  Good brownie points ... so nothing can happen to me.
• I come from good Polish stock.  We are invincible slavs ... and nothing can happen to me.
• I am a source of very good stories. This is one of my favorites, the Scheherazade mantra, in which the universe is going to keep me around long enough to keep it amused... so nothing can happen to me in the big picture because it's just so fun to fuck with me on the daily stuff.
• I rarely drink and never to excess, I don't smoke, I've never even colored my still-mostly-brownish hair.  My body is young and therefore invincible.

Here's where else my mantras go, as I use the "I'm Special" falacy to avoid actually taking super good care of myself.

• I'm married to a yoga teacher... therefore I don't need to take yoga.
• I'm married to a meditation teacher (same guy)... therefore I don't need to meditate.
• I have no cancer in my family ... therefore I don't need to eat well.
• All those statistics are for other people.... Therefore I don't need to wash insecticides off the apples, and worry about environmental and dietary stuff, and maybe I'll even have to stop sniffing glue.

You get my point.

I'm a good person, a hard worker, a story spinner, an opera company upholder.  I'm not obese, I try to exercise once in awhile.  I try to take care of myself pretty well.  I mostly feel pretty good. 

And.

And the rules still apply to me. Even though I'm basically a healthy and industrious and moral person.  Eating well is still mandatory.  Exercising my body, is no longer a self-indulgent luxury.  I've gotta do it.  Or just accept that I'm opening myself up to doing this again and losing every possible moment that I may be graced with on the planet.

And there's also the luck of the draw, which could take all that hard work and just choose to ignore it. I'm not saying I got cancer because of all the Cheetos I have eaten on road trips (although the thought crossed my mind this morning and I seriously would have to weigh whether I could give those up forever and ever and ever.)  It's just that sometimes things happen.  And that's the final reality of the situation.  We can do all these things right but, ultimately, we are all going to die.  That's the ultimate "I'm Special" Falacy.  We are of course all special, and so wonderful, and so heartbreakingly unique.  But none of us are special enough to escape that.


I'd love to end this on a happy upbeat note that implies that if we're all better people this won't happen to us and the people we love.  But, unfortunately, that's how it will all work out.  It just is.  I guess the takeaway is to keep that perspective in mind, do the best we can in the meantime, and try to enjoy the ride.

For now, however, I'm going to go back to work.  And then I'll call my mom and check up on her.  And I've written a story today, so that's taken care of...