We desperately want things to mean something. We label constantly in an attempt to confer meaning. We label nature – tree, grass, sky, birds – and ever after give these things a quick glance, apply the label, and move on to the next thing. In the process we stop seeing. We experience concepts, not reality.
We label things good or bad, we label people good or bad, we label circumstances good or bad. We label certain days holidays and expect those days to be different from other days. We are then disappointed when they are not.
We even label ourselves. We identify ourselves with our labels. I label myself a man, a husband, a speaker, British, etc. These days we use the phrase “Identifying as…” and then slap on a label which separates us off from those around us. But I am none of these labels, I am more than them.
Even the thing that I label “me” isn’t real, it can’t be found, it is a convenient label. But that label comes at a cost. It separates me from all the other things that I have labelled. It makes me subject to the moods and threats that I have labelled. It makes me less than I really am.