I have a fingerprint.
I know that’s, like, not a surprise. It’s a known thing. But it’s often forgotten, right?
As in… We don’t go through the day making a freestyle rap about how we’re each unique (like snowflakes… allegedly*) or how we each have our VERY OWN FINGERPRINT.
*HOW DO WE REALLY KNOW. HOW.**
**I believe in Santa Claus, and yet find this snowflake business hard to believe.
I sat and meditated before beginning this entry. Mostly because I was feeling slightly cranky… And didn’t want to put that energy into this.
And it wasn’t cranky from a place of validity (or maybe 20% valid, 75% not, 5% moth balls). It was mostly cranky for the sake of being cranky. If any of the results of a random google search for “cranky animal” could depict how I was feeling, it’d be this one:
While in calming meditation land, the word “gratitude” came into my mind. Should I just make a gratitude list? I asked.
Suddenly I was hit with a slew of items/situations I’m grateful for, starting with big stuff and zooming in until arriving at a reminder that I have a fingerprint.
It’s a cool thought, really.
With all the crazy shit going on in the world (as if I even know, like, 2% of it) and with how many people there are… And with how many people may be successfully doing the thing we want to do (in my case: making a living via writing and public speaking and workshops + helping the world in the process)… It can become easy to think that we are just a tiny droplet of water in a vast sea.
I have felt this way in the past. Sort of useless. Or not so much useless as overwhelmed. As if I feel like I’m one of the only ones truly dedicated to making this world a better place and how the fuck am I supposed to do that? I have to use my phone’s GPS to get somewhere that’s 7 miles away that I’ve been driving to for years.
And so this fingerprint thing came at a great time (as all intuitive guidance does)… Because it’s this tiny, precious reminder that I am unique. I am special. And yes, there are plenty of people making excellent livings as writers and speakers. There are even lots making livings as writers and speakers about the same-ish topics I want to discuss.
But still, none of them are me.
There are people making a living as writers and speakers about the same-ish topics as me who also use humor and wit to share their message.
Even so… These folks are not me.
I am the only person with my exact slushy of experience.
PLUS. Not every speaker/writer/world-shifter can individually reach/impact every single person.
Like… My mom can tell me, “Jen, you need to do XYZ” a million times. And it won’t be until my close friend is like, “Have you considered XYZ?” For me to go, “HUH. NO. NOT REALLY… (beat) Damn. That’s SO the answer.”
So… I can read the same message in ten different books, and it may be the way the eleventh author words it (or even the energy they put into their words) … (or even the head space I happen to be in on the very day I feel intuitively called to crack open that specific piece of literature) that gets it to finally click into an aha moment for me.
All this is to say that… If I’ve got the drive in me to create, to write, to speak, to teach… Then it’s there for a reason. Y’know… We’re not given these big dreams just to taunt ourselves with. They’re there to lead us. To guide us. To pull us toward our Zone of Genius, as Gay Hendricks calls it in the book The Big Leap (Conquer Your Hidden Fear and Take Life to the Next Level).
I challenge you to think on that for a bit.
What is your inner calling? What is that one thing (or more than one thing) that continually pops into your head and heart and says What about me?
What would happen if you listened to it?
(OR GAVE IT SWEET PRECIOUS AFFECTION AS IF IT WAS THIS FLUFFBALL PUPPY WOOF DOG.)
Share in the comments. I really want to know.