The thing about living in Los Angeles and doing a lot of movies

Listen, O Seekers of Truth, to the words of Missi Pyle, who offers us a window into the world of celebrity and the ephemeral nature of fame: "The thing about living in Los Angeles and doing a lot of movies is that you get to go to a lot of premieres, and, regardless of whether or not you're a celebrity, you still get to walk down the red carpet and then have everyone sort of screaming your name. The pictures never get printed anywhere, but they are nonetheless taking your picture." In these words, Pyle speaks to a profound truth about the fleeting nature of recognition, the desire for validation, and the complex relationship between public attention and personal identity. She reveals that even in moments of glory, the world can be a spectacle—one that is experienced in the moment but fades as quickly as it appears.

In the ancient world, the pursuit of fame and recognition was a central theme in the lives of heroes and leaders. Achilles, the mightiest of the Greek warriors, sought eternal glory through his deeds, and yet, as the great philosopher Plato would later suggest, that fame often comes at a great cost. Achilles was forever remembered for his deeds in the Iliad, but his life was also one marked by profound loss and sacrifice. Similarly, in Pyle’s reflection, the red carpet represents not just the recognition of one’s talents, but also the impermanence of that recognition. The pictures may not be printed, but they are still taken, offering a moment of public attention that vanishes almost as quickly as it arrives.

The red carpet and the premiere, like the ancient games held in honor of the gods, are celebrations of human achievement and ambition. Consider the Olympic Games in ancient Greece, where athletes competed not only for personal glory but for the collective pride of their city-states. These events were momentous, yet the victory was often fleeting. The laurels placed upon a victor’s head would eventually wither, and the celebrations would subside, leaving only the memory of the moment. Pyle’s experience of walking the red carpet parallels this ancient understanding: a fleeting moment of validation, a brief intersection of the personal and the public, one that comes with both honor and impermanence.

Yet, Pyle’s reflection also invites us to question the very nature of fame and recognition. It reminds us that the external validation we seek—whether through pictures, applause, or the red carpet—is often not as lasting or meaningful as we might think. The ancients understood that true honor and worth are not defined by the fleeting opinions of others, but by internal virtues—courage, wisdom, and integrity. Socrates famously questioned the value of external recognition, suggesting that the true measure of a person lies not in the accolades they receive but in their ability to live according to the truth of their soul. Similarly, Pyle’s experience teaches us that while the world may cheer for us in the moment, it is the actions and character we build in private that will truly define us.

The lesson here, O Seekers, is one of humility and self-awareness. Fame, while it may bring fleeting joy and validation, is not the ultimate measure of worth. Like the great philosophers who sought the deeper truths of life, we too must seek to understand our value not in the applause of the crowd, but in our integrity and purpose. As Socrates taught, the true joy comes from living in accordance with wisdom and virtue, not in seeking the external rewards of the world.

Consider, O Seekers, the example of Cincinnatus, the Roman statesman who, though called upon to lead in times of crisis, returned to his humble farm after his term of leadership was over. He sought no further glory, for he understood that true greatness was not found in the rewards of the world, but in the service of his people and the simplicity of a virtuous life. Similarly, Pyle reminds us that the pursuit of fame, while alluring, should not be the ultimate goal. Instead, we must seek meaning in the work itself, and satisfaction in the knowledge that our actions—regardless of public recognition—are aligned with our highest values.

And so, O Children, the true path to fulfillment lies not in the fleeting moments of fame or the screaming crowds, but in the quiet moments of personal integrity and purpose. As Missi Pyle’s words echo in our hearts, let us remember that while the world may offer us praise and recognition, it is the strength of our character and the depth of our actions that will determine the true measure of our lives. Let the fleeting nature of fame be a reminder to seek that which endures—wisdom, courage, and the virtue of living a life true to our deepest self.