Footprints in the Sand

Our strive to be remembered is withstanding and never tiring as we move onwards in our lives. For some of us the want is easier to achieve than for others. Artists in both visual and concrete materials are recognized by the common stranger all across the globe. Political figures are acknowledged for their opinions, tactics and mistakes. Activists involved in a cause that strikes home can be picked out from a crowd and bowed to or cursed at. A musician's song or ballad sticks with us throughout time, reminding us of the memories we made sure to peg to our mind's cork board, simple or complex ideas that are felt important. On a more personal scale, each individual cherishes a close family member or friend who's had a significant impact on their lives, either positively or negatively or both.
Never throughout time has the person's aim to be remembered in such a way faltered. It's seemingly far fetched to hear someone claim "I do not care if no one remembers me" and nor is it possible. Even if someone were to sincerely say that, with no other motives, desires or regrets, would it be possible for the surrounding beings to forget that person. The being who would claim it, their actions and movements, their appearance, their smell and sound and their words would never, ever be forgotten, because even if one's brain is afflicted and overwhelmed with billions of other pieces of information or disease, the brain never forgets.
If the brain never forgets, why is it such an issue to us to be remembered? Why do we feel the importance of being recognized on the street or of being acknowledged of what we've accomplished or failed at? Of course, although some people really are significant to our lives (presidents, dictators, teachers(some), artists, parents, etc.) most people are not. As harsh as it may sound, I really do not care about the everyday call-center worker in India or even the scooter scammer downtown who insisted of asking for change for a taxi, when there was absolutely no intention of actually taking a taxi anywhere. I may begin to care for these people if I come to know them better, but the chances are, in my busy, short life, that I won't get to know the billions of everyday people in the world. It's the same with everyone.
The incessant need to feel remembered can be overwhelming and sometimes harmful in ways of trying to change oneself to gain that position in society. It all boils down to that other question so frequently asked (at least I constantly ask myself it) as to "Why do I care what they think?" "Why does it matter what they care?" For the most part of my days I don't care but then I sheepishly catch myself believing that I do, that I need to know what they think and that I need to know if they will remember who I am. This need or want doesn't only come from a personal insistence; social media, global advertisements and some of the remembered, influential people themselves encourage the ambition to "be remarkable."
A good friend of mine said "I feel like everyone in this city feels like they have to be a part of the arts to fit in, to be accepted here." I agree with her; this city is very art-orientated, very environmentally aware and conscious of its growing younger population. But I think that those pin-pointed people are more so trying to find their balance in the arts and finding something that they will be remembered by.
I have no doubt that that gnawing feeling of wanting to be simply remembered by someone who is deemed important in my life or by the masses will ever go away. I will always want to leave my everlasting footprints in the sand.

cred: Youtube