Here’s a few must-read definitions about “average”, courtesy of Edmund Gaudet.
- “Average” is what failures claim to be when their family and friends ask them why they are not more successful.
- “Average” is the top of the bottom, the best of the worst, the bottom of the top, the worst of the best.
- “Average” means being run-of-the-mill, mediocre, insignificant, an also-ran, a nonentity.
- Being “average” is the lazy person’s cop-out; it’s lacking the guts to take a stand in life; it’s living by default.
- Being “average” is to take up space for no purpose; to take the trip through life, but never to pay the fare; to return no interest for God’s investment in you.
- Being “average” is to pass one’s life away with time, rather than to pass one’s time away with life; it’s to kill time, rather than to work it to death.
- To be “average” is to be forgotten once you pass from this life. The successful are remembered for their contributions; the failures are remembered because they tried; but the “average,” the silent majority, is just forgotten.
- To be “average” is to commit the greatest crime one can against one’s self, humanity, and one’s God. The saddest epitaph is this’ “Here lies Mr. and Ms. Average — here lies the remains of what might have been, except for their belief that they were only “average.”
Abandoning average hurts. Friends will think you’re weird. People won’t want you to change. It can be personally exhausting, but it’s not burnout or stress. It’s the feeling of being pushed to the limit, the way a muscle burns when it’s being strengthened.
Like our physical bodies, abandoning average hurts more the older you get. But it also gives us strength we didn’t know we had.
Last week I had several people congratulate me on how “successful” I’ve become. Funny, because my wife asked me “What’s wrong?” about three times a day everyday that same week. Later on, I had a small breakdown, 30 minutes of weeping alone on my couch. It wasn’t depression or stress. It was simply the price of abandoning all those brilliantly horrific definitions of average. Change hurts.
Height notwithstanding, I’ve always been an average guy. Grades, popularity, income, ability. All…average.
But here’s what I’ve learned about abandoning the average Mike: I must say “yes” to things people say “no” to and say “no” to things people say “yes” to.
So keep kicking. Keep treading water. Keeping saying the little yeses to your personal development, which is what most others say “no” to. Keep saying “no” to wasting time, gossip, and laziness, which is what most people say “yes” to. Let’s use the uncharted waters we’re in to grow no matter how much our muscles burn or water gets in our noses.
If you pay the price of abandoning average, your value will be anything but.
Question: How can you abandon average this week?
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