Oh, To Be Human Again

“We see the world, not as it is, but as we are—or, as we are conditioned to see it.” | Stephen Covey

Cozy seating area with a soft sofa and wooden table, veiled in a gentle blur that highlights the serene ambiance of the sunlit room.

When’s the last time you thought about you—really thought about yourself—without feeling guilty?

What do you like? Love? Hate? What disappoints you?

What makes your heart beat just a little faster?

(Flutter-good, not flutter-scary. Or maybe it’s both. Both can happen, you know.)

What’s the most human thing you did recently?

Did you get hungry? Need to pause your pace and pee—or poop? (Yeah, I went there.)

Did you get tired? Did you need help?

Did you make a mistake, even though you tried really hard not to?

Did you feel anything? Shame? Fear? Anger? Frustration?

Or did you move so fast you didn’t have to feel anything at all?

And what about someone else—when was the last time you saw another human being… just being human?

How did you respond?

Were you angry? Sad? Impatient?

Did you feel embarrassed for them?

Did you cringe at how they were being treated—or worse, at how you felt witnessing it?

Or, again, did you rush past it all, letting it blur in the periphery so you wouldn’t feel a thing?

What if the things we’ve labeled as disorders or dysfunctions or disjointed-whose-a-ma-whatevers…were actually just humans trying to function inside systems that were never built with real human capacity in mind?

What if all our anxiety around being too much—or not enough—comes from that exact space?

Us denying our own humanity.

Us misunderstanding our capacity and capabilities.

So take a literal, actual minute—go ahead, set a timer—and imagine what the world could look like if we remembered what it really means to be human.

What if “baby steps” are actually normal, human-sized steps… and we’ve just been taught to run faster to avoid being left behind?

What if we’ve been conditioned to see weakness as a threat, and exceptionalism as the bare minimum?

We all need rest.

Not as a reward, but as a basic human function.

Not after we’ve worn ourselves to a frazzled nub and *“cannot even.”*

We all need to be fed.

To be nourished—not just fueled—to sustain a pace that doesn’t strip us of our humanity.

We all need belonging.

To matter.

To believe what we do counts.

To believe *we* count—even when what we do doesn’t.

We all need to feel safe.

To know someone would protect or defend us, even if we haven’t “earned it.”

We all need dignity.

Not earned. Not taken away.

Not measured by what we’ve accumulated or lost.

Oh, to be human again! To see our humanity—then recognize it in one another.

Maybe then we could finally reject the ridiculous conditioning that keeps redefining us—

robbing us of the very things that make us who we are.