198. ...Don't forget you're awesome.

(morning thinking)

RED Content warning. Extreme swears ahead.

I've been sent an Instagram meme.

I don’t like Instagram and I further dislike receiving memes so I opened the Instagram video link with caution. A saccharin adorable, daffodil coloured, hairy monster puppet with a cutesy American voice declared with earnest conviction that “...of the nearly eight billion people on the planet, you could have been born a dumb cunt. But you weren't - you were born awesome. Don't forget you're awesome."

Yellow Elmo’s crass affirmation made me smile.

It’s not true though. I was born unremarkable. Not at all noteworthy or particularly special or of any value outside of my immediate family. Is anyone born awesome?

I think I dislike recieving memes because they tend to make me want a longer conversation and meme senders aren’t looking for that, so on this occasion you’re getting it.

One of the kids announced she was going to be famous when she grew up. My friend, the kid’s mother, responded that she was more likely to be average. It seemed like excellent parenting. An attempt to foster a healthy relationship with the ordinary, finding peace and dignity in being, ultimately, quite a lot like everyone else.

I think I've spent a lot of my life wobbling in the middle of a tightrope strung between exceptional and normal. Wanting to excel and desperately wanting to be the same as everyone else. I’ve never really achieved either.

Are equality and diversity mutually exclusive? I’ve said so in the past but I think that maybe I was just tickling contrarianism. We can be different and still expect fairness.

If acknowledgement and acceptance of difference were a human goal the subjectivity of experience would make “awesome” a diverging fractal. True acceptance of difference makes greatness subjective and endlessly branching, rather than something fixed or singular.

Does that make Yellow Elmo… right?

I think the shaggy monster means well but “born awesome”? Aren’t we all born blank? Beautiful and blank. Genetically and socially weighted toward glee or glum but still with a world of possibility to lean into. It’s not an unwelcome message, to be told you’re awesome, but it feels a bit too neat. It skips over all the mess and contradiction and the statistical fact that most of us are somewhere in the middle.

I feel more comfortable with Alabaster DePlume’s request, “don't forget you're precious”

https://youtu.be/rXE2WceZCsQ?si=aVo2WD2WhzNYYvu9

but are we even that? Precious, tends to be tied to uniqueness and rarity. We’re hardly rare. We’re only really outnumbered in population density by insects and the 26 billion Chickens we keep for sandwiches and stir-fry.

Nearly eight billion people. Some awesome, some cunts. But most of us aren’t either of those things, not really. There’s a bell curve right? Most people are somewhere in the middle. And I think that’s where the real richness of life is. The quiet dignity of average. Living small and kind and peacefully.

Yet an infantile American monster entreats us to soar. America believes herself exceptional. America, birthplace of the Teenager, comes across a lot like a muddled teen, unsure of their identity. Lady Liberty, pin-up of the republic, wears a crown. It’s a nation of awkward contradictions, bold declarations, and brittle confidence. Freedom/Slavery, Exceptional/Conformity. I’m not sure Great Britain has been all that great in my lifetime. Average Britain at best. Mean Britain?

A bell curve itself is only smooth from a distance. Zoom in, and it’s bristling and messy, wildly irregular like a Grecian coastline And who decides what counts as awesome or awful, anyway? Subjective, contextual, categories shift with time and place and perspective. The human condition isn’t about being one thing or another. It's about trying and failing and trying again and poking into unusual corners and looking under stones. There won't be gold under every stone so you have to be cool with a “huh” and an easy “mmmh”, a head tilt and a little smile. Peaceful living is about learning to be okay with hovering in the middle. Accepting the mess.

The mess isn’t even a flaw. It’s just life. Little insect worlds thriving in the dark under stones. Roots twisting through soil. It’s small, steady things that matter most. Kindness as seeds, not fireworks. Resilient, subtle, often unseen but essential all the same.

Somewhere around the Old Normal side of Lockdown, I made peace with not having to be big or bold or extraordinary. I realised I didn’t need to change the world. I could just change my world by being the kind of person I enjoy encountering. Helpful, useful, kind. Living peacefully and small. Hopefully setting a tone that draws others towards the same feeling.

I’d like to think I could be a key species in my small pond, one of those organisms that isn’t glamorous but helps keep the ecosystem healthy and flourishing. I don’t need to help everybody or shout from the rooftops to “get my message out there.” I don’t need a following or a fan base or to be lauded and respected by all.

I’ve learned to hold my own peace with permeable edges. Open to letting new things in, gently pushing out to find and try and taste new things as they’re encountered. Accepting of the things that find me.

I think it’s about living in a state of dynamic calm. Not building walls around my peace, but letting it breathe. Letting it be reshaped by whatever comes along. Kindness as seeds, not fireworks. Presence, peace, and dignity in the ordinary.

Can we trust that whatever comes our way can be welcomed, explored, accepted or released without breaking our peace? Modernity suggests we should strive for excellence but I don't know that life is necessarily about greatness or being lauded. Maybe it’s about nurturing a healthy relationship with the ordinary. Living small and kind and peacefully, while the world spins on.

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There's just not enough space in a meme for all that.

I hope the swears didn't make you feel awkward. Or maybe I'm happy they did. It's ok to feel a little awkward and uncomfortable sometimes. You’ll bounce back. You’ll be ok.

Thanks for reading. I'm glad you're here.

Are you awesome? Are we awesome? Precious?

Like, share, subscribe. Whatever feels right to you. I’ll keep writing either way. At least while it's helping me figure things out.

Bye now.

Paul.