So I just turned 32 a couple of weeks ago and it has started this constant chain of panic and fear that I have yet to achieve anything substantial in life. Thirty two years on this fucking planet and I have been playing below par for three quarters of it. Well, I can’t technically say all the years because I physically don’t remember the first 4-5 of them. Who knows, maybe I was above average in those years like excelling in finger painting, but I somehow highly doubt it.
I came to the conclusion that something was amiss two years ago when I hit 30. The big 3-0 does something to you. Well, it does two things. One, it makes you sad that 30 years of your life is now behind you, which makes you reflect on everything you haven’t done yet. And, two, you officially come to terms, after analysing to oblivion and back that you just aren’t as special as your parents used to say you were. Sobbing ensues and a bottle (5) opens as you try and figure out what went wrong.
On one of my drunken messes of a night, I started looking back on why I didn’t actually excel like I thought I would and that’s when it hit me… I was one of those average people. No, don’t try and console me when I say this. It’s true, I’m an average human being. But through my 32 years I thought that I would find something that I would be a prodigy in. Music…nope, not Beyonce. Appearance…nope, not Beyonce. Fashion…nope, not Beyonce. Business… nope, not Beyonce. I basically was NOT Beyonce. Oh yeah and smarts…nope, not Einstein. (I would have said Beyonce for that one too) But I do have street smarts! Haha, just kidding. Remember when someone used to say, ‘Oh, they are sooooo book smart’ and then you would reply, ‘Yeah, but they aren’t street smart.’ It’s what all idiots say when they want to make themselves feel better. I used to spew that out like it was my superman serum of power. And all I have to say about that is, those ‘book smart’ people are having the last laugh with their 6 figure salaries and super charged Audi awesomeness. So let’s just close our mouths and carry on, shall we?
In the midst of feeling sorry for myself, I somehow had a magical epiphany of realisation. Being average had a wonderful life buffer of protective rubber attached to it. You know like how those little fishing boats would have tires draped on its sides so as not to damage the hull? That’s what being average feels like. I was like Harry Potter with his invisibility cloak. And suddenly, it all made sense. I was the one who wasn’t excelling because deep down I felt like I wasn’t better than the next Joe-shmoe. I was Joe-shmoe!
Average is when you get decent grades but are never at the top of the class. Average is that everyone likes you. You are non-threatening. You are the fluffy teddy bear in a sea of cheetahs. Your looks are passable, but most certainly will not bring all the boys to the yard if you had dangled your milkshake in front of them (Look up Kelis if the reference is amiss with your young mind). Average is being stable, sensible and listening to your conscience more times then you would like to admit. You rarely will grab an opportunity without weighing out all the pros and cons and by that point, your opportunity will have flown by. You are not the top of the food chain and you most certainly will not look for attention. It’s actually a warm fluffy blanket that keeps you safe at night. Because let’s face it, being average will not supercharge you into excelling in anything. Therefore you are floating around like a little blobby blob, just getting by with life.
I, my pandas, was an average human being. Hence, I never pushed myself into anything that would have changed my life drastically. This invisibility cloak shielded me from being the centre of attention. It shielded me from hurt, pain, embarrassment and achievement. But the thing is, I never wanted to be average. I always thought that I would be something more than what I am now. I envisioned being the writer version of Beyonce. Sobbing again as we speak. So how does one leave the 50% level of average? Well, one needs to take chances. One needs to put everything on the line and know without a shadow of a doubt that all the hard work that you have been putting in, will all pan out in the end. Assuredness is above average. Positivity is above average. Having balls, (metaphorically, because women rock) is above average. Somehow, I need to change this slow turtle race that is my life.
Sure, under the invisibility cloak of average-ness is a pretty safe place to be. But it’s not a life worth living, is it? Playing it safe all the time is boring. And it certainly won’t push you off the edge of a cliff, scratching and clawing your way to your dreams.
So this time round, I vow to push myself harder. I vow to have the will power to change into a person that I am proud of. Because I have lived in the shadows for far too long. Nazgul-style. Lord of the Rings children! You know those black riders that were cloaked and wanted to kill Frodo? No? Oh Christ, I need to get out more.
Anyway, I will vow to step out of my comfort zone. And if I should fail in my endeavours of being awesome, then at least I will be able to go to bed at night knowing that I tried my fucking hardest! I’m pretty sure even Beyonce would be proud of that.
Peace, love and step away from the Invisibility cloak