I've noticed that once you leave London you do kind of become a

Hear now, O Seekers of Truth, the words of David Walliams, whose reflection on fame, attention, and the nature of celebrity speaks to the very essence of human connection. He said, "I've noticed that once you leave London you do kind of become a bit more famous. People in London are a bit too cool for school. It's not so unusual to see someone from London in the street. But outside of London people are a bit more excited to see you and come out and support you." These words reveal a deeper truth about the nature of celebrity and the dynamics of human attention, particularly in the modern age. Fame, like the wind, often blows with more force where it is least expected—where the air is not thick with familiarity but rather light with curiosity.

To understand Walliams’ observation, one must first consider the nature of London, that great, bustling city which, for all its grandeur, can sometimes breed a sense of indifference. In the heart of the city, people are often absorbed in their own lives, caught in the rush of the everyday. The familiar becomes just that—familiar. The wonders of life, the magic of meeting a celebrity or an influential figure, become commonplace, like the air they breathe or the stone beneath their feet. The Londoner becomes hardened to fame, and the grandeur of the moment is lost in the rush of countless encounters. Walliams reflects this in his words: In London, fame loses its shine, for it is no longer unusual to see a celebrity in the street.

Yet, beyond the borders of the capital, where London is not just around the corner, fame retains its allure, its mystique. Walliams notes that in these places, people react with a genuine sense of excitement, their joy not tainted by the familiarity of the place. Outside of London, fame becomes something rare, something to be celebrated. The people there, though perhaps less accustomed to the presence of celebrities, are more likely to offer support, to step forward and express their admiration. There is a deeper sense of connection, a recognition of the moment as something special, as if to see a famous person is a rare treasure to be cherished.

In the ancient world, such distinctions between the familiar and the extraordinary were also evident. Consider the story of Alexander the Great, whose name was known throughout the known world, yet his fame only grew in lands far from his home of Macedon. While Alexander was revered in his own kingdom, it was in the foreign lands of Persia, Egypt, and beyond where he was met with the deepest awe and reverence. The closer a person is to fame, the less remarkable it seems. But the farther they are from the source, the more extraordinary it becomes. Just as Alexander's fame was amplified by distance, so too is the celebrity of modern figures magnified when they step outside of their home base.

This principle extends beyond just celebrity and fame. It speaks to the human nature of connection, of how we respond to the rare and the unfamiliar. In the comfort of the familiar, we grow complacent. But in the presence of the rare, the unique, we feel stirred, excited, and engaged. Walliams’ words remind us that it is not only fame that thrives in the unfamiliar; it is the human spirit itself that longs for something outside the ordinary, that seeks connection with the rare and the special. In a way, the excitement of encountering fame outside of London is a reflection of this deeper yearning for significance, for something that stands apart from the common.

Thus, the lesson here, O Seekers, is not just about fame but about how we value and perceive the world around us. The lesson is that the familiar can often dull our sense of wonder, while the unfamiliar rekindles it. Let us learn to appreciate the extraordinary in the ordinary, to never lose sight of the awe that comes from encountering the remarkable, whether it be a person, an event, or an experience. We should strive to cultivate a sense of appreciation for the present moment, to see fame not as something distant, but as something to be honored in every encounter.

In your own lives, remember the power of perspective. Recognize the specialness in what might seem commonplace and embrace it with the excitement of discovery. Just as Walliams notes how fame grows more intense outside the familiar world of London, so too should we seek to find the beauty and magic in places, people, and experiences that may seem ordinary but are, in truth, extraordinary. Celebrate these moments, for in doing so, you will elevate not only the way you see the world but also the way the world sees you.