"I am a part of all that I have met" is a largely overlooked line in the oft-quoted poem by Tennyson aptly named "Ulysses," known for its more famous quotation "To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."
For those of you who didn't study western civilization texts (read: anything Ancient Greek at all) in high school or college, you might still be familiar with the story of Ulysses: the main protagonist in Homer's "The Odyssey," a man and king of his own island, on a strange and arduous journey back home to his wife and son under an unrecognizable appearance. And while I never had the academic opportunity to critically analyze this particular Tennyson poem, I knew enough about Homer's epic to take something from that particular line -- we are all the product and manifestation of the journeys we are on.
The good and the bad, the places you've known, the people you call home, the family that raised or abandoned you; the things that have happened to you, the things you've done. Everything has resulted in who, what, where, and why you are you today. You are quite literally the result of the life you've lead. You are all you have met. To some, that might seem like an obvious statement, and to others, a sudden and grounding realization. It took all these different, and not necessarily intertwined, people and places and things to make you the "you" you are today. Without bringing the multiverse theory into play because god knows that's it's own separate topic, so much could've gone so different and, let's face it, would've produced a different you.
I'm coming up on 24 and consider myself lucky as hell to have gotten to a point where I can wake up most mornings and love myself, flaws and and all, because it means I can appreciate everything that's happened to me with pride. It means I've made it through the Underworld and out (and likely back in at some point, and if precedence holds true, back out again further down the path) in my journey.
"I am a part of all that I have met" was a line so meta that in itself changed my reception to life's occur need, and I hold it next to my heart literally and metaphorically. Everything, everywhere, and everyone molds you into a different person than before. Even if slightly. Even monumentally. That party you went to became a story you tell and retell. This person who gave you food when you had 30 cents in your account. The city or town or neighborhood you finally felt homesick for, when you were visiting for the first time. Your grandmother's soup. The popular girl who made your life hell. So many singular things that made you this entire person you are right now.
You are part of all you have ever come across, and I for one can't wait to get to know you and all that came before you to make you you. Teach me. Let me learn from who and where and what you've risen from. Show me how to be a better person, so I can be good for everyone else who hasn't lived your life. Show me all the things that have made you you.
