Our kindergarten teacher once told my mother that she thought I was a “մտավոր հետամնաց (mentally lagging)”. Couple weeks later we were given small paragraphs to learn for a performance. I brought home the handwritten piece of paper so my mother could teach me what I had to say. She instead corrected seven or eight grammatical and spelling errors with red ink and asked me to take it back to the teacher. This teacher I think had the wrong diagnosis. After years of denial and disagreement with my beautiful wife, I finally came to the conclusion this week that I probably suffer from some (maybe mild) form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). When I mentioned this to her a couple of days ago, she smiled and said that she still loved me.
Along the lines of self-examination, I also rediscovered my “plain vanilla” nature lacking in extraordinary abilities and exceptional gifts. Maybe this is a blessing. Perhaps extraordinary people who can see more, understand more, command more also suffer more. I was reading about Enrico Fermi after a book recommendation from Rocky Humbert who kindly bought me a cup of coffee last weekend for which I completely forgot to thank him as we were having a most interesting and enjoyable conversation. Rocky is also someone with an extraordinary mind. My nuclear physicist friend once told me that the difference between exceptional and average people is time. That which takes me hours, days or years to learn or understand may take them seconds or less. Also, when I commit one hour or one day to a project, they commit a year or a lifetime.
Deep in the comments of an interesting post about hubris, Don Chu mentions that “the referential individual unit is certainly the level where all significant achievements originate.” I hope that the three-letter-acronym mentioned above will not get in the way of living my life of average achievements. Regardless, as Don says: “And the result in every case, always: mene mene tekel upharsin (numbered weighed, found wanting — divided).”