A couple of months ago my therapist asked me what would happen if I become average.
I get the guy.
It’s better to be average in anything than being broke, neurotic and hang out on therapy every two weeks.
Therapy made me zero-tolerant for seeing other humans. I cried like the loneliest boy on the Mother Earth after every session and all that shit.
He asked me this particular question after I told him about my obsession with Grand Canion.
It’s a state of mind.
If I was a therapist, I told him, I have to be a therapist like Carl fucking Jung.
If I’m an actor, I’ve got to be like Al Pacino or Gary Oldman.
If I’m an entrepreneur, I’m like Tim Ferris.
If I was a writer, the list is just too long to even mention it.
Can you imagine yourself being average fucking something, he asked.
And how does it feel?
I hesitated to say.
It sounds boring.
It sounds like unknown history repeating.
It sounds like the same old park near the high school. With the new lighting system.
Light years away from the Grand Canyons.
So, what the fuck is wrong with this averageness?
They say we’re losing middle class.
People are divided into extremely rich and extremely poor.
Nobody in their twenties wants’s to grab medium-sized life opportunities.
Plumbers, waiters, electricians, garbage patrols, bakers, post officers, small group therapists?
Nobody wants’s that shit.
Those guys are losers.
Why would I do something like that if everything’s online and you can learn how to make 30k a month with multichannel, influencer or affiliate marketing programs?
Just like that.
From your high school park.
Look.
Sam, Jamie and Craig did it.
So can we. What’s the missing link here?
I didn’t even walk this Earth before my thirties.
My family overprotected and spoiled me.
My schools made me confused and broke.
I was a piece of feather blown by the wind.
It was that moment when I started to work losers jobs in the jungle that made me a step by step closer to average.
Made me aware I’m not Jung or Pacino.
And how painfully far I am from their footsteps.
It was then when I exited the fake Grand Canyon image and entered the state of aliveness.
So, here’s the little ode to the average.
It’s not easy to get there.
It’s certainly not sunshine to stay there.
And you don’t get to even think about reaching Canyon if you’re not OK there.
Far away from being broke, devastated and neurotic.
It’s fucking something, being average.
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A version of this post was previously published on Byrslf and is republished here with permission from the author.
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