Trying to set the stage for what I learned this week is going awry. The writing course I took some weeks ago, won’t fix my grammar or add flowers to the bluntness of the fact:
I am the dumbest person in the room!
There, you have it. This is my core, more naked than the people I see riding their bikes in their birthday suit. Yes, literally, I live in San Francisco at the moment. It feels good to say this out loud, or write it down for the world to read. But while this is a big step for me, it needs an explanation.
This week I reconnected with two of my best friends. We were having a deep conversation over a glass of wine and I explained how I constantly feel like I’m the smartest person around. It has been evident to many, most if not all the people I interact with. A constant longing to drop the next big knowledge bomb — just waiting to put my two cents in.
I needed to be the smartest because that’s all I bring to the table. If I don’t have the answer, what is my value? Why would anyone talk to me, if I can’t solve their problem?
My unconscious definition of being a valuable member of society was and still is to have the right answers. This unconscious believe runs so deep, when I opened it up and looked in the mirror, I honestly asked the person I saw: “Why should I love you?”
In the last post I asked about my reason for living. The answer I proposed “I’m not for me, I’m for you.” Because I only find validation in delivering value. Being the person that can give a solution, a hand or a check, validates my reason for being.
Three weeks until my new adventure begins. But all I think about is how little time remains. Every waking moment I can spend with my friends, the big family of so many different people, are the best moments in my day. Nothing scares me more than leaving without having given everything I can.
But what can I give? I’m not independent anymore. I don’t have answers to most of your questions. I’m can’t solve most of the problems. I know that I don’t know — but still I’m going to ask for your most precious possession, can I have some of your time? Will you be my friend, knowing I can’t offer you anything but my friendship in return?