I Don't Fit
I'm coming to terms with an idea lately: that I don't fit. Anywhere. And that's a good thing.
Who am I? What am I about in the world? What should I be doing? We all ask these questions. And we all look around at the world to try to find slots where we can fit ourselves comfortably: I’m an engineer, I’m a mother, I’m an entrepeneur, I’m a this, I’m a that.
I’ve asked these questions a lot and tried to find answers in the various slots the world offers: a good son, a good student, a nice person, a humorist, a screenwriter, a teacher, a musician, a poet, a philosopher, a spiritual seeker. I’ve tried to occupy these slots or combinations of them, but none of them have felt like they quite fit. And that has led to the question, “What the hell’s wrong with me?”
It’s dawning on me that nothing the hell’s wrong with me. The world just hasn’t seen a Me before. So how could it have a ready-made slot for me? Not feeling like I fit in is a good thing. It means I’m honoring my unprecedented Self. Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, “Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”
I say something similar this way, while also desecrating the spirit of traditional haiku:
My greatest value
to the world lies in my
one-of-a-kindness.
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