I vow to be famous, and perhaps already am. This I want you to know. However, it is not in the traditional sense of the word, or route that one might seek fame. The poem below will reveal that which I am speaking of…
The river is famous to the fish.
The loud voice is famous to silence, which knew it would inherit the earth before anybody said so.
The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds watching him from the birdhouse.
The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.
The idea you carry close to your bosom is famous to your bosom.
The boot is famous to the earth, more famous than the dress shoe, which is famous only to floors.
The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it and not at all famous to the one who is pictured.
I want to be famous to shuffling men who smile while crossing streets, sticky children in grocery lines, famous as the one who smiled back.
I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous, or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular, but because it never forgot what it could do.
~ Naomi Shihab Nye
I am as famous as a buttonhole, and aim to keep it that way. From my perspective this type of fame is not only humble and utilitarian, it reveals something all-together different. It may be called strength, vulnerability, fortitude or simplicity. This is how I live as well as what I continue to seek.