Some might say we should always value ourselves, that we must believe in our own self-worth...
...like some distant idol we have never actually seen. For me, the concept of self-worth has always felt a little fragile. If someone were to ask me what makes me valuable, I could list words like honesty, empathy and so on... but why is it that having these qualities still doesn't make us feel truly confident?
Perhaps it is because we lack self-dignity, or have lost it along the way? Or maybe we never really had it to begin with? After all, no one teaches you how to hold onto your dignity when you've grown up under strict, rigid rules.
Close your eyes and feel this word within yourself – *dignity*… How do you perceive its meaning? What comes to mind? What brings you dignity, and what strips it away? Have you ever felt undignified? Perhaps even humiliated or taken advantage of? What did you need most in that moment? What did you want to do? Do you remember?
Clergymen and secular teachers, writers, philosophers, and everyday people from all walks of life have tried to decipher the meaning of dignity. Let me try to share my own perspective:
A while ago, I went to see a production of *A Streetcar Named Desire* at the Ugala Theatre.
It is the story of Blanche – a delicate lady who has lost her home, her love, her best years, and her standing in society. It was all too much for her highly sensitive soul to bear, and so she lost herself in a labyrinth of illusions. Her desperate search for love and security led her into relations with strangers at a boarding house of questionable repute called The Tarantula. Moving in with her sister and brother-in-law, she met a young man named Mitch, and for a moment, there was hope of marriage. But rumours spread, and Mitch was confronted with the reality of Blanche's past. Trying to hold onto her dignity, Blanche stood tall and owned up to her past. To this, Mitch proudly replied: “I would take you to meet my mother, but look… you're not clean enough…”
Having had enough, Blanche decided to leave, only to be stopped by her brother-in-law, who violated her in the most degrading way. Tragically, when she later tried to speak of it, no one believed her, and she was committed to an asylum. Yet, even though Blanche's spirit was entirely broken, there was a certain quiet, glowing dignity in the way she departed, guided by the doctors...
I believe that every living being is born into this world with inherent dignity. It is like a priceless pearl necklace, gifted to us unconditionally. It forms our backbone, both physically and spiritually. When life goes well, and we are raised by sensitive, loving, and respectful parents, this string of pearls is strengthened, helping us develop a strong centre – our inner compass.
Yet, acts of cruelty slowly and almost imperceptibly strip those pearls away. In their place, a wounded soul is forced to thread cheap imitations, trying desperately to mask the overwhelming shame and grief of their exposure and emptiness.
At the same time, this breaks the needle of the compass, leaving the soul to drift aimlessly across the ocean of life, seeking love and safety in foreign harbours.
How can we climb out of this dark hole with dignity?
First, by acknowledging the depth of the void we are in. Second, by understanding how we got here. Third, by deciding what defines us and what does not. Fourth, by forgiving ourselves for falling into this place. Fifth, by taking responsibility and choosing our next step. And sixth, by taking action on that choice.
Linda Pukk, 29 May 2024
