Spending time in Asia has largely confirmed my belief that the notion of invincibility is of Western creation. There are a million explanations for this, from our aversion to the topic of death to our upbringing relatively void of boundaries (both imposed and created), which I will not go into at this time. That being said, however (at the risk of breaking young hearts and minds), I would like to go on record pointing out that WE ARE NOT INVINCIBLE. We are fragile and made of skin and bones. We are capable of falling and cracking. I do not suggest that anyone live their lives with this idea in the forefront of their minds, but it must be said occasionally for the sake of compassion and quiet urgency, if for no other reason. Allow this notion to intertwine your life with another, not to harbor fear or inspire the life of an introvert.
All of that being said, there is one thing in my life that makes me feel invincible. Every time I feel weakened or at risk of rejection (which, according to Steinbeck, is the root of all anger, crime, guilt and evil), I am eased by the reassurance of my safety net, the network of people I can always fall back on. I have been blessed with the constant support of some of the most strong, inspiring people and they are the ones who make me invincible. It is not my bones or my wallet or even my assiduousness that make me unbreakable, but merely the love coming from others.
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