Being ordinary

Looking around, sometimes you see individuals.

Just one of those days.

When you see individuals, not people. Each person you look at has something special about them – someone is stunningly beautiful, someone writes so well that you can read them for hours, someone has their life as sorted out as life gets by the end of a movie, someone excels at everything and is a success in life. And then people who are gorgeous, write well, are rich, have a sorted life and are successful. Everybody has a reason to be proud of themselves and to know that they have a right in the place that they occupy in others’ life. Then, you look at yourself. So ordinary, that you can think of no achievement worth mentioning (apart from the classic pacifier,’Oh but you’re a good friend/good son/good (place whatever)!’). So ordinary, that you look at everyone else and think that you are perhaps wasting the Earth’s resources. So ordinary, that you pity your parents. So ordinary infact, that a compliment you’ve got from your best friend says that the best thing about you is that you’re ordinary (though he also said that it is not an easy feat to achieve, to be very fair). So ordinary, that at best, you can be a wannabe.

Just one of those days.

And then it occurs to me – it’s good to be ordinary. Why? Because nobody expects anything extraordinary from you. Sure, they hope you’ll do well, but they never realistically expect it. So when you set a goal for yourself, not only do you not have an audience when you fail, but your success is all the sweeter when you succeed.

Being ordinary has its ups after all.


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