Back with original content once again! Last time I blogged for this many days in a row, I was motivated purely by the fact that Rush was releasing a new album (an album whose awesomeness still makes me crap my pants with joy, thanks in part to songs like these). The title of today's post also comes from their 1981 song "Limelight" which is partially related to the topic I have for the evening.
Let me explain what exactly brought me to the topic of discourse for Day 3 of Lent. I was chatting with a good friend of mine over text messaging today (if you'll recall from Wednesday, I am actually making an effort to communicate with people this liturgical season) since it had occurred to me that we hadn't really talked since I dropped Twitter. We talked for a few hours, even discussing the possibility of investing our efforts into a starting a sarcastic greeting card company (something I always do appreciate about these conversations: how quick they can go to absurdity and back). Eventually, I brought up the recent news I heard that Brian May and Roger Taylor were reassembling Queen with Adam Lambert for a North American tour. It was not long after that my friend (for the sake of discussion, let's pretend her name is "Haley") voiced her immediate displeasure of Adam Lambert (besides, of course, the fact that he is not nearly good enough to fill Freddie Mercury's shoes). In particular, Haley went on about her issue with his "flashiness" and how she believes that this over-the-top personality he is superficial; she also went on to say that trying too hard to force such a gay stereotype as your image "goes against the concept of pride--being proud who you truly are." (Before I continue, it should be noted that both of us, especially Haley, are well in support of gay rights).
So, to be clear, I'm not here to discuss gay marriage, although that is a discussion I would welcome for a future post. What I am here to discuss is the personal illusions that people cast upon ourselves, especially for those who seek "living in the limelight, the universal dream." What exactly prompts people to put up false identities? Masks, illusions, costumes, or other metaphors?
Obviously, there is societal pressure. We all have seen the people in celebrity culture who seem to embody stereotypes: Adam Lambert, as mentioned above, is the flamboyant gay guy, Kim Kardashian is supposed to be a paragon of beauty, One Direction is the next wave of heart-melting British boys, and Kanye is a douchebag. (Okay, so that last one is probably true on both the outside and the inside). This isn't anything new of course, remembering the reckless lifestyles of 27 Club rockers like Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Kurt Cobain, and so on, who also had to achieve their own personas to survive in the music world. Caught in the camera eye, some folks are forced to play a role, whether that role is themself or not. This is especially true with the rise of reality TV, where anyone who is willing to wait in line with thousands of people and make an image for themself on camera is granted a piece of fame.
So, how does this apply to us? How does putting up a facade like this affect a common dude outside the limelight? Well, it's not like we don't try and exemplify personas in order to get through daily life. I bury myself behind playing guitar, behind my callow acting skills, and my obsession with old music. Hell, even my Twitter account was like the Tyler Durden of my personality, a charismatic figure that exaggerated myself for a crowd of followers. The real us is sunken deep within, and very few can see it if we want others to still think highly of us.
So, how can we work to have pride in ourselves? "Put aside the alienation, get on with the fascination, the real relation, the underlying theme?" I think that full exposure of ourselves as people is not always something that can be done to completion in one's lifetime. As Neil Peart's lyrics in Limelight will point out, sometimes a personal barrier is necessary for survival, and when you're on the stage in front of a massive crowd (both figuratively and literally), bringing out the real you is not a spontaneous action. But in that alienation, you have to still consider what it is that you value in others, and let yourself be exposed when it really matters. The real relation. Going back to the Project Mayhem that was my Twitter, I think that although I tried hard to fictionalize myself and be the "funny guy," it still mattered to me that I didn't kill my genuine self in the process. Some of those "followers" sure do mean an awful lot more to me than just numbers to make my Twitter stats look good.
Above all, remembering yourself is remembering what Jesus made you (those of you who want a secular message can skip this paragraph and still find meaning). In this season of casting away your boundaries from Christ, the best thing to do is to let the real you live. He may not always see the light, but dammit, his time will come someday. And the Lord knows you and who you really are, and showing that person of limitless potential that dwells inside will only strengthen your relationship with Him. In the Kingdom of Heaven, all those facades will be gone.
All in all, don't try too hard to be completely naked in your true personality. But don't get rid of the real you, even if you think that it separates you from others, 'cause it sure as hell ain't gonna separate you from heaven. Don't hide the real you from those who matter most to you (the rest of the crowd can piss off, for all you care). Above all, remember the timeless words of Roger Waters:
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Mornin' Hays, signing off.
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