I have had a break through, a realization. I am not special. I am average. Although this is surely shocking news to my mother, that was not actually the break through. I mean, I've seen what happens when I try to bake and I still count on my fingers. No, what took me by surprise was realizing two things. The first, how deep down I felt disappointed in myself, and secondly, how that has stopped me from doing things in life.
Although this was not a core shaking, life altering realization - there were no tears or subsequent glasses of wine - I was intrigued. As I mulled these thoughts over, I began to look at my life, my decision making, my interests and hobbies, my career, and I realized how much this 'fact' had pervaded my life.
As a little girl, I wanted to be famous, sometimes it was as a star athlete, or a gifted writer or singer - whatever it was didn't really matter, what mattered was that I wanted to be exceptional. I imagine this to be common of most children, aspiring to be special - the dreams of one day becoming an astronaut floating in space, or the soccer player who kicks the winning goal at the World Cup. Of course, for the majority of us, life progresses and instead of becoming the exceptional astronaut, you became an average accountant.
Now this is not a comment on success, or quality of life or happiness. Far from it. I am (largely) very happy, I have a wonderful husband, great friends, a beautiful home and two adorable dogs. What I observed in myself though, was that somewhere deep down, the disappointment of not being exceptional in skill or talent, has stunted my ability to try new things or take up hobbies or pursue my interests. Could I be happier still if I worked through this?
This very topic has come up before as I discussed with my friend my waning interest in (of all things) this blog. When I began blogging, I was interested in pursing my writing and photography. Over time though, I became disheartened. There were so many other fantastic blogs and gifted photographers, surely I would never be as talented or successful, so what was the point? My friend told me that of course it didn't matter if other people were better at photography, the point was the joy I got out of pursing my interests. Like a good friend, I took her advice to heart and promptly stopped blogging.
I thought about this discussion and then began to think of all of the hobbies and interests in my life I had skipped over because of this ingrained disappointment in myself for being - gasp - ordinary. Similar to a fear of failing where one decides to not even try, my fear of turning out an average painting or short story or photo (which of course would be the reality) has meant it hasn't been worth trying.
Inspired by this rather foundational realization, I picked up and began to re-read The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. Gretchen, although living a full and happy life, felt she could and should be happier. She noticed she was quick to irritation, was dragged down by low levels of energy, a chaotic home and a loving but slightly strained marriage. She resolved to do something about it and created a methodical approach to boosting her happiness.
As a fellow analytical over-planner, I have begun mulling over the idea of taking on my own project, The Exceptionally Unexceptional Project maybe? I have no idea what it will look like, but I want to push myself to try new things and be proud of the mediocre results.
Could be fun?
