Lately I've been dealing with the question of what I have to offer as a person in relationships, in a workplace, and in terms of talent. I assume that's just an inevitability when you move to a big city with an excess of talented, energetic, extroversive individuals. They're everywhere. And they're watching... Always watching.
I am now living in a place where you have to know who you are and what you have to offer. Otherwise, you'll be trampled over, left in the dust, and no one will ever know you we're even here. It's a scary truth and it's something I hate dwelling on. Nevertheless, it makes for good motivation to keep soul searching. But then comes the question, "What happens if you don't find anything or if you don't like what you do find?"
There are some relationships I'm involved in where I'm mostly just a listener. I've mentioned before that I consider myself a soft-spoken individual, and sometimes it really is because I just don't have anything to say. But sometimes I don't say anything because maybe I feel like what I have to say just isn't that relevant or important. The worst part about bottling up what I have to say this is that it makes me feel like a taker rather than a giver. It makes me feel like the link that just doesn't measure up to the rest. It makes me feel like wasted space.
I fully understand what it's like when you feel as though you have nothing important to share or offer. Most of the time you feel stagnant, without passion, and maybe a little bit hopeless. But in all honesty, when you really dig deep, I think you'll find that it's just voices in your head screaming exactly what you don't want to hear. Voices that lie to you and tell you that there's nothing to give. The choice we all have is whether or not to believe what they say.
I remember my road trip out to California. The second day of my trip, I went from Fort Worth, Texas to Tuscon, Arizona. The first seven and a half hours were spent driving through the flat, dry plains of West Texas. It's desolate, barren, and for lack of a better word, boring. There was absolutely nothing between me and the horizon. As time passed, I felt myself growing more fatigued and drained of energy. I was almost ready to give up.
But then eventually, right before I-20 merges with I-10, I saw a mountain rising out of the horizon miles away. It was something new and interesting to look at. I started to get excited, and that excitement gave me energy. Before too long, the drab landscape transitioned into a mountainous desert with some of the most beautiful, dramatic, rolling valleys I had ever seen. It may not sound that interesting, but for someone who has never seen the desert and had just spent hours driving across the plains, it was a breath of fresh air. It was something that the land had to offer.
Then again, maybe my issue isn't that I don't have anything to offer. Maybe I feel that what I have to offer just isn't good enough to share. That is, unfortunately, much worse. I'm keeping whatever mountains I have buried beneath the horizons. It's cowardly and it's selfish. And if this is you too, then you could be robbing the earth of its greatest, most beautiful landscape. No matter what you have, if you keep it bottled up inside, your horizons will always remain flat.
The truth is that, unlike West Texas, we can always change if we so choose. We can find something to offer, or in my case, the courage to share what we already have. For the longest time, I chose not to tell anyone about this blog, but now I choose to share it. Even if it's not as good as I would like to think it is or if it just seems like the aimless ramblings of an over-thinker, it's still something I've taken hold of and have chosen to offer. I know that sometimes you may feel like you have nothing to share, but do you really and truly believe it?
I'm an introvert that wants to be an extrovert. I'm a wallflower that wants to dance in the middle of the floor. I don't want to be afraid to share what I have. So what's stopping me? I can make excuses all day, but the fact of the matter is that nothing is stopping me. I just have to keep driving and hope that my own mountains will appear.
There are some relationships I'm involved in where I'm mostly just a listener. I've mentioned before that I consider myself a soft-spoken individual, and sometimes it really is because I just don't have anything to say. But sometimes I don't say anything because maybe I feel like what I have to say just isn't that relevant or important. The worst part about bottling up what I have to say this is that it makes me feel like a taker rather than a giver. It makes me feel like the link that just doesn't measure up to the rest. It makes me feel like wasted space.
I fully understand what it's like when you feel as though you have nothing important to share or offer. Most of the time you feel stagnant, without passion, and maybe a little bit hopeless. But in all honesty, when you really dig deep, I think you'll find that it's just voices in your head screaming exactly what you don't want to hear. Voices that lie to you and tell you that there's nothing to give. The choice we all have is whether or not to believe what they say.
I remember my road trip out to California. The second day of my trip, I went from Fort Worth, Texas to Tuscon, Arizona. The first seven and a half hours were spent driving through the flat, dry plains of West Texas. It's desolate, barren, and for lack of a better word, boring. There was absolutely nothing between me and the horizon. As time passed, I felt myself growing more fatigued and drained of energy. I was almost ready to give up.
But then eventually, right before I-20 merges with I-10, I saw a mountain rising out of the horizon miles away. It was something new and interesting to look at. I started to get excited, and that excitement gave me energy. Before too long, the drab landscape transitioned into a mountainous desert with some of the most beautiful, dramatic, rolling valleys I had ever seen. It may not sound that interesting, but for someone who has never seen the desert and had just spent hours driving across the plains, it was a breath of fresh air. It was something that the land had to offer.
Then again, maybe my issue isn't that I don't have anything to offer. Maybe I feel that what I have to offer just isn't good enough to share. That is, unfortunately, much worse. I'm keeping whatever mountains I have buried beneath the horizons. It's cowardly and it's selfish. And if this is you too, then you could be robbing the earth of its greatest, most beautiful landscape. No matter what you have, if you keep it bottled up inside, your horizons will always remain flat.
The truth is that, unlike West Texas, we can always change if we so choose. We can find something to offer, or in my case, the courage to share what we already have. For the longest time, I chose not to tell anyone about this blog, but now I choose to share it. Even if it's not as good as I would like to think it is or if it just seems like the aimless ramblings of an over-thinker, it's still something I've taken hold of and have chosen to offer. I know that sometimes you may feel like you have nothing to share, but do you really and truly believe it?
I'm an introvert that wants to be an extrovert. I'm a wallflower that wants to dance in the middle of the floor. I don't want to be afraid to share what I have. So what's stopping me? I can make excuses all day, but the fact of the matter is that nothing is stopping me. I just have to keep driving and hope that my own mountains will appear.
So, if there's one thing you should take away from this post; Sometimes it doesn't matter what you have to offer, just so long as you offer something. Don't worry about how well you do, just go do. You will find your strengths, you'll find courage and confidence, and eventually the mountains will rise out of your horizon.
And if there's a second thing you should take away from this post; Don't be flat, don't be barren, don't be boring, don't be West Texas!
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