“I’ll just be Jules, Vincent.”
I love this line, which is from my favorite movie — Pulp Fiction.
It comes as gang enforcers Jules Winnfield and Vincent Vega are eating breakfast at a coffee shop in Southern California. Noting an earlier near-death experience where he “saw God,” Jules tells Vincent that he aspires to leave the gangster life and “walk the earth.” After Vincent responds by calling him a bum, Jules uncorks those five powerful words.
It might seem strange that this line resonates with me the way it does. After all, it’s far from Shakespearean. It doesn’t even roll off the tongue.
Why does it strike such a chord? Because it gets real. Realer than we’re willing to get.
You see, when we describe who we are, we tend to use a ton of labels as identifiers. Our job, our ethnicity, our family name. Whether it’s ego talking or the realities of a culture built on the twin concepts of diversity and resumes, these labels dominate the discussion. They describe us, define us and even impact our behavior.
Our obsession with rising in stature — both professionally and socially — is fueled in part by our label-crazed culture. And our achievements are shrouded in the context of these labels.
But they don’t define who we are.
Strip all the labels away, and we still have something unique to contribute.
Our quirks, our habits, our intonations, our looks, our interests and hobbies — these attributes are geared toward our individuality. Sure, we might share some of them with relatives, friends, or even complete strangers. But ultimately, the combination of all these attributes makes us unique. It makes us 1 in 7 billion.
The decisions we make, the paths we choose to navigate life’s complexities — these all ought to be as unique as we are as well. But all too often, they get caught in the fray of our label obsession.
This is a reflection of human nature. After all, we are social beings. It’s totally normal to want to conform. It builds camaraderie and a shared community.
Even so, we must consider what we’re sacrificing in this exchange.
Can we do better for ourselves when it comes to the decisions we make? All too often, the answer is yes.
Now, I’m not saying we should all Walk the Earth without a rhyme or reason to it. That strategy is far from foolproof, even in a Hollywood script. (The fate of Jules Winnfield is intentionally left ambiguous in the film.)
That said, I do think we can use the decisions we make to show more of who we really are.
This shift might make us feel squeamish, but it’s worth fighting through the internal discomfort. Why? Because refocusing our internal compass around our individuality forces us to conquer the apprehensiveness of making a decision for ourselves, rather than the acceptance of the masses. It allows us to describe who we are through our actions, rather than our accolades.
Most of all, it leaves us happier and freer. Life is not like its eponymous board game. We each have our own path to follow. Chaining ourselves to the wagon trails others is masochistic and counterproductive.
So, let’s just be Jules. Or Pete. Or Vanessa. Or Cory, Danielle, Taylor, Dylan — you get the idea.
We don’t need more than that to express who we are.