not notable is not nothing

 

In 1867, the Society of Arts inaugurated the Blue Plaque scheme, identifying the former homes of since-deceased notable people, initially in London but later widening across the UK.

Between my vicarage and the supermarket, there is a house on Silksworth Lane that bears a false blue plaque declaring On This Site In 1867 Nothing Happened.

Of course, it isn’t true to say that nothing happened. Silksworth Lane existed, albeit bounded by farmer’s fields rather than houses. At the very least, rain fell, grass grew and was eaten by livestock. Trains passed by carrying coal on the first line to use steam engines (albeit not as notable as the first passenger train line). People must have walked along the lane, perhaps driving animals, perhaps travelling by horse-drawn cart. Almost certainly, conversations took place, perhaps discussing the events of the day, further afield, or perhaps purely domestic matters. Women might have gossiped about the dismissal, by the all-male House of Commons, of a proposal to give women the vote, along with extending the male franchise. Menfolk might have sneered, among themselves, at the very idea. Just as I saw today, on my walk, older couples might have hobbled along hand-in-hand, propping each other upright.

The claim Nothing Happened simply means nothing we consider Notable.

Your life is almost certainly not Notable, or Important. Get over it.

That is not to say that your life does not matter. It matters deeply. Indeed, it matters far more than the things, judged by strangers, that earn your ghost a blue plaque. Because you matter to those who know you, now.