Exceptional

I used to think that I was really exceptional - mainly, because I spent high school carefully orchestrating my social circle and academic achievement so that I would appear as exceptional as possible. Lots of people fell for it. I had boyfriends and best friends and awards. Now, I'm worried that I'm losing my flair.

Living in Toronto makes me feel ordinary. I feel that spending two years in a house the size of a bomb shelter is enough to dampen one's fantastic-ness. But it's more than that - I'm being outplayed here. In my teaching program, I've made so many friends because everyone is ... well, amazing. I'm getting my degree with Rhodes scholars and people who have done peace missions in Cambodia and people who have raised families. I sometimes wonder what I really have to offer.

So tonight I took Steve's mom to see an advance screening of "Miss Potter". And it's all about her amazing children's books and her paintings and it was such a lovely, sweet movie. I thought to myself "I could write a children's book"

And then I thought to myself ... no, I probably couldn't. And THEN I thought to myself - what am I really really talented at?

And then I thought to myself, I stopped playing the piano after grade 5, can't knit (unless someone wants a square), quit soccer (bad knees), quit track and field (too much running), don't really speak french all that well, haven't painted or drawn for years, am not a great cook or gardener, don't invent children's books about bunnies in jackets, can't fix computers or build bird houses or even whistle very loudly. I had a vague ambition of being an olympic bobsledder but couldn't find anything to bobsled down. I don't do makeovers.

And that made me feel ordinary.

It's 2:27 in the morning, by the way. I'm just stupid in a "not-tired-now-and-not-worried-about-the-consequences" kind of way. But I needed to think of something that I was really, really good at before I went to bed. Sort of like drinking warm milk for my ego. And here's what I came up with.

I am a supurb organizer.

This may not sound like much. But when your closets are colour coded and your drawers are labelled and your boxes have bins that have dividers, when your books are stored and your binder is neat and tidy ... it's a good feeling. Maybe even better than bobsledding.

So I don't feel so ordinary anymore. I realized that I'm also good at shopping, flirting and cribbage. I do a great job throwing out old stuff and am slowly learning more about photography. And most of all, I think I'm a good teacher. I may never write a children's book, but I might just be okay after all.