Catching Idle Butterflies

I Am Not

How easy it is to go over the substantial list of the things I’m not. I’m not witty, I’m not insightful, I’m not pretty, I’m not tall, I’m not skinny. I don’t have perfect teeth, the perfect skin, or a figure to make men drool and women jealous.

While I may have a passable intelligence, I’m no genious (see, I can’t even spell it). I’ll never invent the must have gadget, discover a planet, or find a new species – plant or animal, or publish the Great American Novel.

Yesterday I made a huge error and checked the stats of my blog. My readership has dropped to 2/3 what it was only a month ago. The number of comments per entry is even worse.

It shows I can express myself with only a passable flair. Too many are far funnier, eloquent, intelligent and philosophical than I could ever hope or dream. Their stats and number of comments prove it.

I scrutinize my “I’m Not List” and think, yep, that’s why. I’m not anything worth . . . anything.

I then imagine a supper. I sit with all the people I know at a huge table and every person’s plate overflows with food. Each person has something different on their plate, but they all make my mouth water. I stare at each one in turn and think, “How I wish I could have that. Why can’t I have what they have? It’s not fair.”

Meanwhile, my own plate gets cold, untouched and forgotten.

While I wish I knew how and why I’ve pushed away some of my readers and would love to have them back, by lamenting their absence, I ignore the readers I still have. I ignore my own supper prepared with just as much care and love as everyone else’s.

Thank you, Dear Reader, for coming back day after day, entry after entry, whether you comment or not. Because of you I entertain the idea that my words have value, that though I am not many things, I am still something worth . . . something.

So I don’t make you laugh so hard you pee your pants. I may never say that one thing that inspires you to great thought and deed.

That’s okay. Those jobs belong to others. For me to try to be like them only makes me appear fraudulent, and worse, I’m not using well the talents I have.

I’m still trying to figure out what those are, but some things are meant to be discovered slow, to be savored.

Life can be one scrumptious meal if I slow down enough to enjoy it, quit comparing myself to others, and toss away the “I’m Not List.”