I know how to fold a fitted sheet.
This is not something you hear people say often. In fact, it’s usually the reverse (and there seems to be a sort of pride involved in saying that you don’t know how to do this). But I do. I know how to fold a fitted sheet. For me, it’s completely logical and makes sense.
I didn’t always know how to fold a fitted sheet. But I had an inkling on how to do it, and I wanted to be able to do it – so I sought guidance on how to do it, and then I practiced.
Life is pretty much just like this. It flows in a sequence of
Ok, that last step implies that I feel I’ve “mastered” folding a fitted sheet, which I have, and also haven’t. Sometimes it turns out wonkier than others. And if we’re being honest, the space between Practice and Mastery includes an infinite number of trial, error, failure, and success steps before we can actually label it as “Mastery.” However, often when we see someone as “successful” or a “Master” of their craft, we forget the numerous and varied steps it took for them to get where they are.
We lose perspective.
And that’s the point.
When I first started writing this post, I thought it would go another way – I thought I’d be discussing the shame I felt for being able to do something that others seem to ridicule because they can’t (we’ll save that for another day). Instead I’m ending up here, discussing the importance of perspective.
It’s the same old saying: Don’t compare your insides to someone else’s outsides.
If someone’s pride (couched as humor or ridicule) causes you to feel shame over your gifts or talents, it’s important to step back and take perspective. Your mastery is a result of curiosity, seeking, guidance, and practice. Their pride and ridicule is usually the result of fear, insecurity, and discomfort. One generates results, the other generates disconnection. Which would you choose?
I choose to be able to fold my fitted sheet.