A Place to Feel Both Invisible and Seen

When I was in kindergarten, we made a big to-do about the 100th day of school. We held a big celebration with cookies, streamers, and construction paper ribbons with the number “100” safety-pinned to our shirts. However, the best part of the celebrations: each student was to bring in a jar containing 100 items. Danny brought in 100 starbursts, Nicole brought in 100 soda can tabs, Corine brought in 100 pennies, and I brought in 100 cotton balls.

As a five-year-old, it was exciting to not only choose which item to bring in, but then to meticulously count and recount to make sure the current number of items would be held up in show-in-tell. If I was one cotton ball short, Mrs. Lucas surely would be able to tell!

This is my 600th post here on existential ergonomics. With the vastness of the internet, my words are like specks of dust and dog hair caught in the corner of the baseboard. And yet, I’m proud of my little trail of belly button lint and dead insects collecting in the places most don’t see. I am truly happy to be here, sharing thoughts and digital hugs with the 20 or so regular readers. (Hi!!)

The first blog post was written almost exactly five years ago. I had been ill for three years at that point and was still in denial. I had lost my friends and my career was suffering. My life was falling apart around me, being held together by bungee cords and duct tape. I was trying desperately to over-achieve myself into a better place, and is this blog was part of that plan.

What if we could wrestle down life’s big questions using the scientific method? What if we could systematically improve human thoughts, actions, and environments in a way that shapes personal meaning and significance? Existential ergonomics is my attempt to explore just that.

What is Existential Ergonomics?

This blog is infinitesimally insignificant in the world, yet one of the most significant parts of my life. When my health collapsed, my friends disappeared, and my relationship suffered because I refused to accept that I was sick (and thus seek help), this blog was a constant. It was a safe place to land, a place where I could feel both invisible and seen.

The celebration here isn’t exactly the numerical milestones, but instead the recognition of my journey where I have been and how far I have come. Over the last five years and 600 posts, unknowingly, I have embarked on my own hero’s journey, traversing through denial, diagnoses, treatment, and mastery of my health. It’s a haphazard story of stubbornness-turned-perseverance. In trying to distract myself from ill health, a found myself facing it head-on.

Today, on the Heart of the Matter, I’ve written about my first exposure to Joseph Campbell and his hero’s journey in Shadows, Monomyths, and One Teacher’s Influence. Come join in the discussion!