Unique, that is. In order of importance:
- Personality
- Intelligence
- Looks
Some people have the good fortune of all 3. My youngest son, who is home for spring break, went to town yesterday. At the local Sonic, where he was getting his mom a slushy, because he knows she likes them, he reported a car full of girls, waving and calling his name. He didn’t know any of them.
He is the sort of person that lights up the room when he walks in, without even trying. Everbody loves him. Especially us, of course. He is living off campus, splitting rent on a house, working a job, and going to school. We are proud parents.
The rest of us mere mortals are also unique. The abundance of things that make us all who we are, are rarely the same between individuals. But at the same time, no matter how much we may differ, we are all pretty much the same. At least in the capacity of meeting our basic needs of survival.
But there are always a few standouts. The gifted musician, the prose of the writer/poet, the extremely talented in their line of work, the math genius, the scientist, and so on. However, the gifted are often cursed with societal dysfunction, mental illness, etc. So it’s not always a rosey proposition being among that group of uniqueness.
In fact, the mundane normalcy, of most of our pathetic lives, might actually be better than we think it is. The grass might be greener on the other side, but is it really better for you? I’m not sure that our satisfaction with our lives is necessarily based on our unique.
…but at the same time, I’m also jealous of those who have it π
For the record, I would call all of my WP pals, unique. If you want to come and kick my ass, I’ll send you the address π