The way in

There are a lot of mysteries in life. Is there life in outer space? Why is abbreviation such a long word? How do they get the caramel in the Caramilk bar? I don’t have the answers but I do know this: when it comes to mysteries, we know more than we think.

Personally, the mystery that has always preoccupied my mind is, Who am I? If you were to stand across from me right now and ask, “Who is Carolyn Holdsworth?” my answer would inevitably be “Ugh,” followed by, “I honestly have no idea.” It wouldn’t be because I was fishing for compliments or have a flair for the dramatic. I’ve felt disconnected from who I am for as long as I can remember. 

But I do know who I am. I know what I believe, what I value, what I want. Of course I do. I just don’t always know how to access the information. It’s like trying to describe a painting that hasn't been painted yet. I can’t see the big picture.

At least, that’s what I thought. Until today.

Today I was updating my profile on couchsurfing.com, a website to connect travellers with people who want to open their homes for free to folks visiting their city. Jim and I did a lot of couchsurfing when we were backpacking through Europe back in 2013. 

When I landed on my profile page, I read this in my ‘about’ blurb: 

“I try to keep things easy (with a moderate-to-high degree of success). I trained in music so I'm a creative type, with the sensitive nature that comes with it. I'm quick to laugh and really enjoy genuine conversation. Because of that, I talk pretty openly about myself and my experiences. And I do my best to be kind... to you and to myself.”

That doesn’t sound like someone who has no idea who she is, I thought.

Out of curiosity, I dug up a few more old ‘about’ blurbs. This one was from a workshop I did called The Creative’s Workshop:

“I feel my way through things. I don’t think a lot about consequences, and it mostly turns out OK. Drives my mother crazy, though.”

And this one from a workshop I started and never finished called My Own Irresistible Brand:

“All my life I’ve been watching other people stand out and thrive. I’ve been search for that thing in myself that shines my light. I believe once I find it, practice it, share it, live it, I can make a real difference in this world.”

These old blurbs were a goldmine. It turns out, when I write I’m actually pretty clear about who I am. 

Writing is my way in. 

Like the decoder ring in a cereal box, writing takes all the seemingly disparate, jumbled information floating around in my brain, organizes it, interprets it, gets rid of the superfluous junk, and spits out a conclusion.

It makes sense of what I already know. 

There's always a way in. It could be taking pictures or talking with friends or fishing or reading or solving Sudoku puzzles. Our everyday experiences are like cracks leading to our core. We can follow them back to ourselves.

We can follow them back to our talents.

Seth Godin has a succinct way of describing the difference between talent and skill: A skill is something you learn. A talent is something you were born with.

We're all born with a talent, and that talent is at the core of who we are. It's our light, that thing that makes us shine. Our job is to bring it into the world. To express it. To put it to use. It might very well be our only job.

But life gets in the way, as life is wont to do. 

We get hurt and stressed and busy and distracted, and our talent is too precious to expose to that. So we tuck it away somewhere safe to protect it. Then, as is customary with precious things we tuck away somewhere safe, we forget where we left it. 

My talent was so well hidden that I didn’t even remember I had it. 

I only remembered that there was something I wanted to find, something that had gone missing. So I started retracing my steps and looking for clues. 

I'm still piecing it all together but I understand more today about myself and what I have to contribute to this world than I did yesterday. It's all the incentive I need to keep searching.

Some things pull us further away from ourselves, some things bring us closer, but no matter how long it’s been tucked away or how far it might feel, the core of who we are – our talent – will always stay intact.

That’s where the magic is, if you’re curious enough to go looking for it.

C.

PS. Thank you for all the thoughtful and kind responses to last week's post. It is such a pleasure to write for you and invite you into my brain.