I’ve been asked by different people on multiple occasions whether I can play table tennis. And I never know what answer to give because saying that I can’t play would be a lie, and telling them I can probably builds too much expectation and leads to disappointment. In such situations, I tend to decide what my answer should be based on the people I am with. If I’m with my school friends, I’ll probably say no because the guys are really really good (but again the question never comes from them since we just begin playing). Which is why I had said I can't really to my college friends, and they were surprised when they saw I could dish out a serve or two and wasn’t terrible, leading them to think that I was lying. In continuation, at office I said I wasn’t terrible and maybe it was a bad day or they were just really good, but I was terrible and slightly embarrassed. I don’t think we ever played again.
But telling people that you can do something, or that you’re moderately good at something, builds up a lot of expectation. People start making assumptions. Good is a very subjective word. Good could mean better than my sister, or good could mean better than nothing. In my case especially, there are lots of things I can do, or enjoy doing.
In the context of a person who can barely take two laps of a track, I can go steady for 45 minutes and feel beatific and not enervated. If I’m with people who’ve never played the keyboard before, I can catch the melody and play it without much hesitation. I could also sketch and paint a picture or two and you might think it’s really cool. But put me up against someone who runs marathons, can easily play stuff that sounds great compared to oh-you-know-the-basics, and an actual artist, I’m pretty much close to nothing.
And sometimes it irks me, that there is little value from the personal satisfaction and enjoyment you get, when you can limitedly do so many things. But that is probably because it is also accompanied by the dissatisfaction of being a master at none.
I just wish I put in enough effort in one thing for mastery because I think it's important. Not only do you get more rewards for mastery since everyone can be "good" at something, but there is this feeling of accomplishment when you actually know stuff in detail, or when you have a crystal clear understanding. And I'm striving for that in my own subjects but at the back of my head, I think I can sense a lack of confidence that I'll never know as much as I'm already supposed to. I'm surrounded by people who've literally sculpted their resumes, and mine is still close to an amorphous rock. Flip side? I can still do whatever I want with it. Other flip side? The hyper nature of time since it never waits.
And this is the moment where I feel so happy that I write because it is the only consistent thing in my life since I was tiny, and hopefully will be forever. I want to introduce people to new ideas, visit new worlds, and look at the world from my perspective. It's a shame that to be a full time author is mostly a dream for people because the population does not believe in paying for any form of art - unless it is famous of course.
But this debate is for another day.
Shape your rock a little bit
Or just plan how you want to do it
Kanksha <3
