When we are young, we all become copycats, I think. As we are developing childhood friendships we kind of idolize our friends. We start to dress like them, or talk like them. We decide to eat the foods they like to eat, and we might even start to wear our hair like they do.
I guess it’s living proof that “imitation is the highest form of flattery.” Maybe this copycat phase of our lives is our first experience at loving someone who doesn’t live in our home. We want to take the characteristics of our friends, because this is how ten-year-olds show love.
And, we are supposed to love others. The Bible tells us that:
“Beloved, let us love one another, for love comes from God.” — I John 4:7
God loves us first. We then pass that love on to others.
And with this copycat phase, we begin to create our mosaic — we take a little piece of every person we have ever known, put it in our pocket, and take it with us wherever we go. Even when we have long forgotten that we put that barrette in that place in our hair because our best friend in fifth grade wore hers like that, the barrette and the hair and the person became part of our own personal puzzle, our mosaic of all of the people we have met, and especially of all of the people we have loved, or been loved by.
“We are all mosaics. Pieces of light, love, history, stars.…glued together with magic and music and words.” — Anita Krishan
In other words, the very essence of our being is formed from our experiences, relationships, inspirations and a dash of cosmic beauty.
To this day, I write my capital L in cursive the way one of my third grade friends wrote hers — with a really big loop. Being a copycat isn’t so bad — it’s not something to be ashamed of — when we copy others, we are living out an homage to people that we have chosen to let in and love.
Let’s start with the family we grew up with. Some of our fundamental qualities are a direct reflection of our immediate and extended family members. The first record album I asked my parents to buy for me was the Broadway cast singing the songs of Fiddler on the Roof, because my favorite cousin, Sue, loved that album. Perhaps my love of theatre actually began at that moment. I watched my former sister-in-law tend her infant son, and later bathed my own son exactly like she did.
When I was a classroom teacher, I fell in love with every single teacher that I worked closely with. They became my work wives and husbands. You can’t survive one school day without their help and support. They are all a part of my mosaic.
Those kinds of interactions constantly remind us that we are not alone. There are people who surround us and deeply impact the ways we think, and the ways we eat, and move, and read, and interact, and vote, and love and speak.
And we are better off because of them — these pieces of our mosaic. They widen our circle, they bring diversity to us.
The people who were part of our lives when we were going through tough times are part of our mosaic. They listened to us. They helped us. They loved us through it.
The other day, as I was thinking about this topic, I decided to try something. I thought if I tried it first, and it worked, maybe I would suggest the activity to you. So I called someone from my past, who lives in Atlanta. This person and I had been very close, we taught together, but then a big conflict arose, and things didn’t exactly end well. We have been occasional, peripheral friends ever since — certainly not sharing much real information or feelings. But anyway, I called her, and I said, “Look, I am fixated on the idea that all of the people that I have loved and have loved me are really an important part of my mosaic, and I wanted to tell you that you are part of that. You are part of my mosaic, and I hold you dear. I carry you with me.”
There was silence. Yikes, I guess this failed. Then I heard a deep breath, and through tears she said, “You have no idea how much I needed to hear this today. I am really struggling right now, and I have been thinking about how you were always there for me, too. Thank you for saying that.”
My friend had recently lost someone very close to her, while she is also caring for her 90-year-old mother all by herself, in her home.
So, I imagine you can guess that I am going to suggest that if you feel like it, calling someone who is part of your mosaic and telling them that, might bring comfort to them.
We all need to be seen, and heard, and remembered. Every single one of us likes to be reminded that our time with other people was valued. Even when our relationships change, or end, or the person leaves this earth, we can honor and hold dear the good parts of what we used to be together. If there was love involved, even if just for a season, I believe we are tethered together in a good way.
To be loved is to be changed. I remember when my first serious boyfriend broke up with me in high school, I thought I was going to die. He was a good guy. He was far smarter than I realized. As he told me our relationship was ending, he said something I will never forget. He said, “Don’t be sad. We are all the love we have ever received.” I didn’t say anything, but at the moment, I thought, “Who are you, the Prophet? I am 17 years old and you just broke my heart.”
It’s no wonder our hearts are so easily broken when people leave. We become a reflection of the people that we care about and those personality traits stick with us even if the people don’t.
Nothing negates the love we have in our lives. Loss doesn’t destroy love or remove it from our lives. Whether you discovered a passion, tried something new, or found your favorite food, how people inspire us has no direct correlation to the amount of time they spend in our lives. It is impossible to walk through life and not be affected and changed by our encounters with others no matter how brief, and I think we are meant to continuously carry these experiences with us. After all, each of us has endured incredible joy, pain, laughter, sadness and growth that leads us to who we are today. So let’s acknowledge and celebrate everything and everyone that makes us who are are.
My friends, you are part of my mosaic. I see you, I love you, and I value you. You have impacted my life. You have changed me. And I am so very, very grateful. Amen.
Destiny Kudelko wrote these words: “We are a constantly changing mosaic of the people that come in and out of our lives. We are an ever-evolving piece of work that each person who comes into our lives and holds some importance gets to sign.”
So, if someone says to you, “Well, you’re a piece of work, aren’t you?!” You can reply, “Yes, I am. I am an ever-evolving piece of work.
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