Though I obviously agreed to come to this world, I don’t think I particularly wanted to be here at all, judging from the fact that the cord was wrapped around my neck, I was blue and not breathing, and my feet had to be stabbed with a pin again and again so that I would cry. Even though my philosophy is that each of us is a brilliant part of the whole, my brilliance has not been apparent to me, possibly blotted out by my not-wanting-to-be-here-guilt.
I became an observer very early on- maybe because it made me feel safer. I saw that people around me did not like it when other people were too bright and shiny and brilliant. I guess they worried that their precarious brilliance might be blotted out by someone else’s. I learned to dial mine down. Sometimes when that wasn’t enough I was admonished or scorned. Turning down the dimmer switch made me feel safer and generally worked all right except for a reoccurring and lonely feeling of being in a vacuum- not being “plugged in” to life.
I see that, ridiculously, all of my life I have worked hard to not be brilliant. Here are some tactics I developed: I decided to be shy! It worked pretty well to stay in the background. Problem was, though, when I started college I decided to expand my personality and be more outgoing. It worked. I shined. So three weeks later I started getting migraines! Good ploy! Nothing like having to go to a dark, quiet room all day to dim your brilliance. Then- and this was good, I must say- I married a man who wanted me to be a different person from who I was! Brilliant, right? When we separated I didn’t even know what to buy at the grocery store, much less identify what I was passionate about. Then, whoops!, I found a person who likes me just for me. So that ploy did not last and I had to come up with new techniques. When my migraines diminished, I “perfected my perfectionism” along with piling more and more on my plate! Great!! A no-win situation! The piled-up stuff would come crashing down sooner or later.
I have continually and relentlessly searched out ways to be less brilliant throughout my life.
Here’s the miracle. It- the brilliance- seeped out when I wasn’t looking. I could not contain it, hard as I tried. Ridiculously, for all my labor otherwise, I have led a life that looks quite brilliant, making a true contribution to this world. Here is why. When I do my work, I get out of the way without knowing it. I am connected to Source without intending to be. And guess what? I am not the least bit lonely or scared when I do. Turns out that being brilliant means I’m connected to all that is. The path that I am on is bright and shiny and true. I cannot un-know my brilliance.