I haven’t done this in a long time…written, just to write. I was reminded of how much I miss it and how important it is to me this morning, as I spoke with one of my people. We were talking about fears of being perceived, of what happens if we don’t say things the way we mean to, or we make a mistake. They shared the ways in which it has led to freezing and limiting their words, to ensure they aren’t misunderstood.
I shared with them my journey both in this blog, and even in my videos I posted as I ran for mayor, that I’ve worked to just let things flow out as they will. When I first planned to make videos, something I’ve never done, my friend tried to give me a script, asked me to wear a cute outfit, planned where to film the video, wanted it to be just right. We all know that pressure that we need to be perfect and polished. Instead, I chose to do something different. I would film whenever I had something to say and just speak (sometimes at 2am with no make-up and in my pajamas) and then I’d post them. Without watching them to look for weird faces I may have made or if I stumbled over my words. Without editing. Without “retakes”. Without AI to draft the perfect words. I would just post them because that was me.
I’ve always done the same thing writing here. Sure, I fix basic grammar and make sure it makes sense, but I let my words be mine and I write the way I speak…sometimes that’s in run on sentences or thoughts I haven’t quite solidified yet. But through this process, I am not anyone other than me and there is such freedom in that. I’ve also found that it is this authenticity and vulnerability that others are able to connect to, where they find permission to be their own version of perfectly imperfect, and genuine, beautiful connection with those around me.
In talking with my person, I also thought about the playful curiosity that children have, where the unexpected or unplanned is just a new adventure, a new opportunity to explore. Something that most of us learned to stifle and silence to protect ourselves, or in some cases never had the safety to have in the first place.
There is a country song from the 90’s by Kenny Rogers, called, The Greatest. The premise of the song is a little boy heads out to a field with his baseball bat and ball. He says “I am the greatest player of them all” and then tosses up the ball. He swings and misses. So he tries again. Again saying, “I am the greatest player of them all”, as he tosses the ball, swings and misses. And again. At this point, you’d expect him to feel discouraged, to beat himself up. But instead of being shaken, he prepares to head home because his mom is calling him and sings, “I am the greatest, that is a fact, but even I didn’t know that I could pitch like that.” He wasn’t a failure because he missed the ball, instead, he shifted from being the best player that’s going to hit the ball to being the best pitcher.
I love this song and the resilience and playfulness it shows, something that many of us have lost. When we mess up or something doesn’t go as we had hoped, we see failure. And the fear of that failure often stops us from even trying in the first place. What if it doesn’t come out right? What if people don’t like it? What if I’m not any good? What if I mess up?
What would happen if we allowed our little kid selves to emerge and harness the creativity and curiosity we once had or should have been able to have, with the flexibility to turn the oops into something beautiful? What if we could be more like the little boy in the song or like the kids around us?
When my kids were little I would watch them sit down to create something, for example, maybe they planned to draw a butterfly. After working hard to get it just right, they might turn around, with crayon in hand to ask for a snack and draw a huge mark across the page. But instead of getting upset and feeling like their picture was ruined, they would instead say something like, “Oh didn’t I tell you mom? My butterfly isn’t just any butterfly, it’s a ninja butterfly and that it’s sword.”
So I challenge you… Be real, be messy, do the thing even if you don’t know you’ll be good at it, and if you need to, turn that butterfly into a ninja. That is where learning and connection and growth lies. The real you is exactly what the world needs, and you may just find that what you thought was a mistake or that part of you that you were afraid to show, is exactly what opens up the path you didn’t know you needed to be on, and what leads to the acceptance you were afraid you’d never find.
As Miss Frizzle would say…
