Image by blmiers2 via FlickrWhy do we put so much pressure on ourselves to be “normal”? What is normal anyway?
Over the past few months I have witnessed the beautiful men and women in my life in a rather surprising state of affairs; a sense of trepidation – a lack of confidence – a second guessing, feet not planted firmly on the ground and an overwhelming association with anxiety that sounds like this “Oh my God, I am going to make a mistake?”
A successful business man I once knew, Jim Penner, told me that every time his employees made a mistake he gave them a raise. Why? Because he knew they had just become a whole lot wiser.
Frig. If I had a dollar for every mistake I made I would be able to pay off the national debt in one sweeping move AND be able to buy myself a great pair of Italian leather shoes.
Oh my bad I did that two weeks ago... the shoes - not the national debt - sorry tax payers!
Oh my bad I did that two weeks ago... the shoes - not the national debt - sorry tax payers!
Being terribly concerned about my friends and as usual wanting to “fix” the problems I went for tea with a trusted pal.
She said to me, you see the whole person – the complete picture - and you are wondering why the heck they are so worried, stressed, and not able to just do it. They only see their arms and feet – they have to be the ones to find their rest of themselves.
She shared a story and it goes something like this:
Last summer while pulling a few weeds from my flower garden I noticed a caterpillar crawling up the wooden garden fence, it was fuzzy, kind of pretty black and orange I think.
I immediately remembered as a kid collecting caterpillars, cradling them in my hand, gently blowing on them, casually watching, and putting them in jars with twigs, leaves, and anything I thought they would like to eat. Wanting to protect them from the big bad world my intensions were good, but not in the best interest of the caterpillar eventually they died.
A day or so later, I went back into the garden to pick some tomatoes and noticed right under the ledge of the fence a well spun cocoon. It ended up to be about the size of my palm; lighter on the outside getting progressively darker until you reach where the caterpillar is hiding.
For more than a week I tripped out there to see what was going on.
Some days I was very patient; other days I worried “What if it died; what if it is stuck; what if something bad happens? What if one of those crazy squirrels or birds get at it?’ I also was curious I wanted to break the cocoon – to make sure it is okay and maybe that would help. But, I knew if did it may die or it may live - wings not quite developed leaving it unable to fly or if it did fly it would be weird and stressed.
One day I went out the cocoon was broken and the butterfly was on its way.
I had one question for my friend after she shared this beautiful story: What happens if the butterfly becomes too afraid and doesn’t leave the cocoon?
She just looked at me.
No butterfly is exactly the same and neither are human beings. Each of us has our own rhyme and none of us are normal. Become your possibility and the world will appreciate you for it more than they would if you stayed hunkered down in your cocoon. And - if you have people around you that don’t support what you are about – find the ones who will - they are out there.
thInQ About It.
While you are doing that check out Different Drums of Ireland. You may just like it.
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