You Are Not as Important as You Think (And That Is the Point)

I used to take myself very seriously. My career. My reputation. My identity. I had built a story about who I was, and I defended it like a fortress. Any threat to that story felt like a threat to my existence.

Then I read Alan Watts’s essay “Importance,” and everything shifted. Not because I decided to be less serious. But because I saw that seriousness was not a virtue. It was a weight.

The Morning Glory and the Giant Pine

Watts quotes a Japanese poem:

The morning glory blooms for an hour, Yet it differs not at heart From the giant pine which lives a thousand years.

This is not a metaphor about perseverance. It is a statement about value. Importance is not measured by time. A thing is not better because it lasts longer. A pea is as round as the world. As far as roundness is concerned, neither is better than the other.

We tend to think our lives matter only if they leave a mark. If we build something big. If we are remembered. If we make enough money or win enough awards or influence enough people. But the morning glory does not care about legacy. It blooms for an hour, and that hour is complete.

The Insignificance Trap

Beside the immensity of time and space, man seems a being of the most utter insignificance. In comparison with the vastly complicated problems of the modern world, the lesser hopes and fears of the individual seem of no consequence.

This can feel depressing. But Watts says it is the opposite. Buddhism is the Middle Way. It does not say you are insignificant. It says you are both significant and insignificant, and both at the same time.

Modern astronomy tells us of our insignificance beneath the stars. But it also tells us that if we lift so much as a finger, we affect them. We are transient. We have no abiding self. But the fabric of life is such that one broken thread may work immeasurable ruin.

Your importance is not in how long you last. It is in the quality of your existence. And quality does not scale with size.

The Vice of Seriousness

Watts has another essay called “Lightness of Touch.” Chesterton said that because they take themselves lightly, angels can fly.

The kind of seriousness that drags man down is not the child of sorrow. It is a sort of playacting in which the player is deceived into identifying himself with his part. You are not your job. You are not your title. You are not your reputation. You are a player in a game, and the game is not as serious as you think.

This becomes a vice in the adult because he makes a religion of the game. He fears losing his part. He uses his dignity as stilts to keep his head above adversity. His trouble is that instead of playing his part, his part plays him.

People see through the guise. They smile politely while you perform. And you feel it. You feel the hollowness of the performance. But you keep playing because you have forgotten there is an exit.

The Message of Eastern Wisdom

The message of Eastern wisdom is that the forms of life are maya and therefore profoundly lacking in seriousness from the viewpoint of reality. The world of form and illusion which the majority take to be the real world is none other than the play of the Spirit.

Or, as the Hindus call it, the Dance of Shiva. He is enlightened who joins in this play knowing it as play. Man suffers only because he takes seriously what the gods made for fun.

This is not a call to be irresponsible. It is a call to see the game for what it is. You can play your role with full commitment. You can care deeply. You can work hard. But you do not have to believe that the role is you.

The ego as a social fiction helps here. When you see that the self is a construct, a game piece, a role you play, you stop taking it so seriously. You can still play. But you play with lightness.

Why We Cling to Importance

If seriousness is so burdensome, why do we cling to it?

Because we are afraid of what happens if we let go. If we are not important, does anything matter? If we are just a small creature whose life is like a snowflake, what is the point?

Watts answers this with the Middle Way. It is well that one who is too much concerned with his own affairs should consider the immensity of the universe. But let him not consider it too long, lest he forget that the responsibility not only for human prosperity but also for the order of the universe is his own.

You are small. And you are huge. Both are true. You are a little universe. The ordering of your mind and body is as complex as the ordering of the stars. Can we say that the governing of a man’s universe is less important because it is different in size?

No. But that importance does not require you to be heavy. It does not require you to be grim. It does not require you to suffer.

The Power of Solitude

One place where this lightness shows up is in solitude. When you are alone, you do not have to perform. You do not have to impress anyone. You can just be.

The power of solitude is not about being lonely. It is about being free from the roles that bind you in company. In solitude, the player puts down the mask. The part puts down the actor. And what remains is something quieter and more real.

This is not escape. It is restoration. You return to the world lighter, more available, less clenched. You can play the game again, but you know it is a game.

Frequently Asked Questions

Does this mean nothing matters?

No. It means matters do not need to be heavy. You can care deeply without suffering. You can work hard without identifying with the outcome. The quality of your action matters more than the size of your impact.

How do I take myself less seriously without becoming lazy?

Seriousness and commitment are not the same. You can be fully committed and still light. A musician can be serious about music and playful in the playing. A parent can be dedicated to their child and joyful in the relationship. The lightness is in the grip, not in the care.

What if people depend on me to be serious?

They depend on you to be reliable, not grim. You can show up consistently without carrying the weight of the world. In fact, you show up better when you do not.

Is ambition compatible with this view?

Yes, if the ambition is playful. If you are building something because it excites you, because it matters, because you enjoy the process, that is fine. If you are building something to prove you are worthy, to escape your fear of insignificance, that is the trap.

How do I stop performing?

Notice when you are performing. Notice the audience in your head. Notice the critic, the judge, the admirer. Then remember there is no one watching. Or rather, the one watching is you, and you are free to stop.

What if I am already too far into the performance?

You are not. The moment you see the performance, you are already free of it. The recognition is the exit. You do not need to undo anything. You just need to stop adding to it.

The Angel’s Secret

Chesterton said angels can fly because they take themselves lightly. The same is true for humans. We are weighed down not by our responsibilities but by our self-importance.

The morning glory does not worry about whether it is important. It just blooms. The giant pine does not compare itself to the oak. It just grows. They are not lazy. They are not passive. They are fully alive. They just do not carry the extra weight of being significant.

You can be the same. Not because you are lesser. But because you are already whole. The effort to be important is the only thing that makes you feel small.

Living Lightly

This is not about checking out. It is about showing up without the armor. It is about playing your part with joy instead of fear. It is about remembering that the game is a game, and that makes it more fun, not less.

The next time you feel the weight of your own importance, remember the morning glory. It blooms for an hour and that is enough. So are you.

Not because you are insignificant. But because significance was never the point. The point is the blooming. The point is the now. The point is this ordinary, fleeting, perfect moment.

And you are already in it.