37.1052°S, 12.2777°W

Every now and then, I treat myself to the pleasure of flying around the globe through my computer screen. Not that it replaces the thrill of experiencing firsthand the sounds, tastes, textures, aromas, and landscapes of special places. But under the warm light of a lamp, with soft music playing in the background, discovering destinations that didn’t even exist in my imagination before is still a possible joy.

Once, I plotted a maritime route from my city, Porto Alegre, which isn’t precisely on the southern coast of Brazil but is relatively close to it. I wondered where I would find solid ground if I just could kept moving the mouse all the way to the right on the map, starting from the nearest beach in the Americas, until I stumbled upon some breathtaking geographical feature on the beautiful African continent. It was along this imaginary path that I found, halfway across the South Atlantic, the most remote inhabited place on Earth.

Not realizing that my straight line was impractical due to the Earth’s curvature, somewhere around the 37th parallel south and about 12 degrees west of Greenwich, I bumped into a small, almost imperceptible speck on the blue screen. I tried to imagine what that tiny, floating, and solitary dot in the vast ocean could be. In disbelief that I might have made a new maritime discovery in the 21st century, I imagined it was some kind of pixel glitch in the satellite image. But as I zoomed in, the pinprick of green on the screen began to reveal itself as a piece of land, floating like a leaf on the vast blue ocean, eventually emerging as a small but distinct patch of solid ground amidst the surrounding waters.

Soon, I discovered that this landmass bore signs of human presence and even had a name. A place with its own address in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean called Tristan da Cunha.

"Tristan da Cunha" – I thought, amazed by my find – that name sounded so familiar in my native language, with a touch of the 16th century, reminiscent of the glorious era of Portuguese exploration. A barely noticeable spot on the map that already felt familiar to me even before I had explored it.

 ***

Today’s post will be about the discovery of our uniqueness and, in the end, the role others play in our happiness.

"Discovering" Tristan da Cunha led me to reflect on how often we feel small, isolated, and alone in the midst of an almost infinite vastness, standing out from the rest of the world because of what we lack. How many of us are the only person in our old school group who hasn’t had kids, the only employee in the department who doesn’t cheer for any soccer team, the only one in the family who didn’t go to law school? How many of us, at some point or in some aspect of life, haven’t found ourselves feeling so defenseless and lonely, trying to survive alone in an oceanic desert?

However, the perception of our uniqueness can also point in the opposite direction. By attributing a characteristic to ourselves that only we have, it differentiates us from everyone else, defining our identity by what we possess in abundance. We become that person who quit their banking job to become an actor; the mother of three who won a dance competition; the person who moved forward after their partner's suicide; the wheelchair user who sells their paintings at the local art fair. When we are what we’ve made of our own story, our distance from the mainland is no more than an indicator of how unique we’ve become.

There are different ways of seeing ourselves as the most isolated point on the planet. Among the possible ones, I’ll refer to the one that leads us to love ourselves exactly as we are.

Our differences may seem insignificant when viewed from afar. However, it’s precisely by visualizing what makes us unique that we can catalyze internal changes to become a better version of ourselves. I believe that, ultimately, it’s us, not others, who are responsible for our suffering and happiness. The causes of one or the other may not be housed within us, but it’s us who choose how to act in the face of them.

So, let's think about the steps of self-acceptance, self-discovery, creativity, empathy, and compassion, and finally, resilience as valuable resources to deal with the uniqueness that, on one hand, isolates us from the world, and on the other, brings us closer to our own essence. The first step, as we’ve seen, is to accept our uniqueness. Often, we try to fit into molds, into an ideal of fulfillment that isn’t truly ours. Or, worse, into a desire that belongs exclusively to someone else. Accepting who we are, with what we lack and especially with what we have in abundance, allows us to live fully and authentically, offering the world a contribution that is, in essence, irreplaceable. Feeling different also gives us a unique opportunity for self-discovery. Just as I virtually traveled the world and discovered Tristan da Cunha, we can explore our inner universe and reveal aspects of ourselves we didn’t know. This journey can be enriching, helping us understand our motivations, passions, values, and life purpose. The feeling of being different can also be a shortcut to exercising our creativity. I’m referring here to the new way in which each of us can decide each day to live our own lives and relate to others differently than we used to do before, making small, great achievements that involve harnessing the qualities that set us apart. And this is important because there’s no possibility of internal creation without first connecting with what’s unique in us. If this means being a distant point on the map, so be it; we’ll then have enough resources to build our own bridges and connect with the rest of the world without ceasing to be ourselves. Allow yourself to explore new ideas, experiment, and create, without fear of judgment. Create a world where each piece of objective reality harmonizes with your subjective reality; the process can be both enjoyable and surprising. Don’t waste precious time doubting your ability to create. Life rewards those who dare. One thing to be careful of is that starring in our own story should not become synonymous with individualism, much less with loneliness. By understanding and accepting our own differences, we become more empathetic toward the differences of others. This allows us to build deeper and more meaningful connections – reduce distances? – inspiring others to do the same, forming a network of support and understanding. Last but not least, inhabiting our own private islands can be challenging, but it can also make us more resilient. Through difficulties and isolation, we learn to trust ourselves and find an inner strength we might not have imagined we had. This resilience prepares us to face challenges with courage and determination. Courage that is the engine of life.

In this perspective, reconciling with our own story means accepting our uniqueness and fostering internal arrangements that allow us to live well despite it and, at the same time, thanks to it.

***

As I write, I realize that the casual pause that led me to discover the world’s most remote inhabited island served as a symbolic way to try to connect with my essence amidst a stressful day. Or to transport me to a comfortable, harmonious, and unique place within myself. The hypotheses we come up with to explain the most senseless things we do are fascinating. Let’s embrace our playful moments; they say a lot about us.

I’d like to end this post, which I now realize is quite lengthy, with a stanza from a sonnet by Luís de Camões, compatriot and near-contemporary of Portuguese navigator Tristan da Cunha, after whom "my" island was named. There are many plausible interpretations, but I see it as personal and emotional growth that leads to self-acceptance and self-love. This would mitigate our need to depend on others to complete what we lack, as we’ve already found it within ourselves:

"The lover transforms into the loved thing,
by virtue of so much imagining;
I have nothing more to desire,
since in me I have the desired part."

Our newly discovered islands, paradise and refuge. May our individuality not imply loneliness, but comfort for our souls. Each of us is a unique point on the map of life, and being unique makes us nothing but extraordinary.

Image source: SnowWhiteimages / iStock