It's OK to be Ordinary

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"If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing."

-St. Paul to the Corinthians

When I look at myself, I don't see much. I'm an overweight, anxiety-ridden fellow. I don't follow through on my dreams, and my work ethic leaves much to be desired. I don't have one thing that makes me stand out from the pack. Some of my friends are excellent musicians, engineers, actors, comedians, or writers. I'm decent at a lot of different things, but I'm not child-prodigy-level at anything. 

But when I consider why I want to be special, I realize it's because I want to be loved. I think that if I get enough attention, make enough money, get in great shape, that I will be loved. It's a lie I reinforce far too often. 

But it seems love is found in more boring places, like face to face conversations with friends. I believe this is true because when I consider why I love certain people, I don't love them because they're so special. I love them because I know them. I love them for who they are, and nothing could diminish it. 

I used to sit in the chapel in seminary for hours meditating. I would ask myself how Jesus could love us when he is a God and we are plain folk. Why would a God die for his creatures? Perhaps I have the semblance of an answer in acceptance of the mysterious nature of love. God's love for his creatures must not be unlike the mysterious love I feel for my friends. Love is a presence with another person. It's not some intense emotion. It's more of a steady calm you feel around someone, a peace. Love simply is.

In fact, if someone said, "I love you because you're such a good singer," I might feel like shit. This person only loves me for something I do? What if I lose that ability? Will the love die? 

Pixar's Soul hit me in my feels (check it out on Disney+). The protagonist wants to be a jazz musician so badly. He wants to be special, to be admired, to quit his boring 9-5 and be something. And then he reaches his dream. He becomes a jazz musician and gets everything he wanted just to realize he, "thought it would feel different". He discovers that it wasn't all it was hyped up to be. Being special and living his dream job only gave him limited satisfaction. His real, consistent joy came from watching a seed fall from a tree on a bright summer day, a conversation with his barber, listening to a guitarist sing in a New York subway. 

All the Instagram likes in the world can't measure up to a hike through nature, a hug from ones mother, a lick from ones dog. 

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