The prettiest, fastest, smartest, wittiest, kindest.
We want to be the best. At something. At something we like to do. Something that we admire or enjoy. We want to be the best at something that others will admire.
It is heartbreaking to be eliminated from the running. Early on you realize you may not be the prettiest, or the smartest. So you look around for something else, another category to compete in.
We specialize. I will be the best humorous writer. That is my goal. Until I read a bunch of very funny and poignant blogs and realize, wow, they are as good as or better than me.
Now what? What do you do when you can’t be the best? What’s the point? Why bother?
I wish life wasn’t a contest. I don’t like being a loser. I want to write. But if I can’t be the best…
What if life were a garden? And rather than one flower only, the best flower, what if the garden had all different varieties of plants and flowers? What if there was room for many, many different flowers. And what if having a variety made the garden beautiful?
It’s tough to pick the best flower. There are lots of good flowers.
It’s easier to pick the best singer. There are many contests to determine the best singer. Grammy, AMA, CMA, American Idol.
What if your ipod only had the BEST singer.
That’s it. Only one. But it was the BEST one.
My ipod has lots of different singers. And I like it that way. I don’t really know which of them have won awards or been declared the best. I like them for different reasons: the tunes, the words, depending on my mood.
I would be sad if I had to pick only one. Only one singer, or one song.
I wish life was like an ipod or a garden.
And not so much a contest.