A Case for the Average

Well, it's 1:30 and I kept tossing and turning which means that I was thinking. So instead of just lying in bed I thought I'd blog my thoughts and feelings, then edit them to make sense in the morning.

Anyway, this is kind of a continuation of a paper I wrote in high school about mediocrity, and why it's not so bad. Lately I've been feeling--you guessed it-- mediocre. Average. Lackluster. Nothing awful, but nothing special. Unabashedly and unapologetically right in the middle. But is that such a bad thing?

I put it to you that it's not. I mean, look at the world around us. For you math people, you study averages like crazy. Ever since third grade we've been finding mean, median, and mode. The unspectacular, average numbers of a series of numbers given to us. As we grow older we are taught to find outliers; these extraordinary numbers that we are supposed to look out for. I couldn't tell you what outliers are because, to be frank, math and I are not on speaking terms. I don't talk about it unless the circumstances dictate, and it does the same courtesy to me. Thus far, the air of professionalism has been appreciated by both sides. But I know that more often than not, we look for averages. We're looking for bunches, groups of things, and the spectacular become suddenly ordinary.

But those are just numbers, right? What about people? I'm the first to admit that I don't like grouping people and numbers together. As I said, I'm not a big math person. I'm a touchy-feely right-side-brained person. I think that assigning numbers to people alienates them and hurts their feelings and makes them worse and blah  blah blah. But I think that in this situation, a case can be made that the same rules apply, and here's why.

We live in a society of averages. We look to actors and astronauts and politicians and sports stars and crazy people to feed our curiosity. We live our boring, mediocre lives. We trudge through the mundane, dreading the boring, and seeking excitement in the unfamiliar. So we look to these human outliers-- exceptional people to spice up the boring day-to-day. But for the most part, 99% of us move through our lives never impacting another 99% of the population. We go unnoticed, and just sit in the middle.

Kinda depressing, right? Well, sure, I guess it certainly could be if you're a glass-half-empty kinda person. Me? I'm not too interested in how much is in the cup-- full empty or otherwise. I figure "hey, I've got this cup with stuff in it. Is it delicious? Is it nasty? If I throw it on somebody, could that be funny? If I freeze it and lick it, would it taste better? Is there a way to market that to any audience and make money?" And that's why I don't sleep at night and instead end up blogging.

Anyway, I think that if you want to be depressed because you're not special, go for it. But here's why you shouldn't be. Ordinary people are those number averages. People focus on them the most, because they comprise most of our human population. I mean, when's the last time you met a famous person? Were they awesome? Did they blow your mind with their self-actualization and wealth of life experience? Or did their breath smell because they didn't brush their teeth and had a bit too much coffee?

But average people, we meet them every day. We pass them on the way to work. We sell them clothes, flip their burgers, celebrate their birthdays, mourn their deaths, babysit their kids, enjoy moments, and makes memories with these Average Joes. All without the notice of 99% of the human population. I've never met a truly famous person, so props to whoever has, but when/if I do, I'm sure I'll tell my kids all about it. I'll show them pictures of me making a funny face next to their exceptionally handsome/beautiful faces, or tell them about how funny this one thing they said was. But you know what else I'll tell my kids? I'll tell them all about my grandparents, my parents, my friends. I'll show them pictures from my high school years, my college years. I'll tell them the story of how I met their mother, the stupid things I did with friends, the sad times, the fun times and the just plain weird times. And you know what? In two or three generations, I'll bet their grand kids won't care less what famous person I ever talked to. They probably won't care much about my high school years, or about my parents or grandparents. But the values that were instilled in me by these average people? They transfer generation to generation. They are branded into our DNA, in our upbringing and how we think.

That's the thing about being average. We as the average are just as essential, if not more so,  those spectacular people. Think of it as a clock: with hundreds of cogs and screws and wood parts and a winder. Most of us have the calling in life of being a cog, just a little piece of the machine. But some of us, a very few. have the lucky life calling of being the guy that gets to wind the clock. They're extraordinary. They make the clock work, right? Because without one of us cogs, the machine would probably be fine. We are replaceable. But without all of us, the winder has nothing to wind. Without many of us interacting together, helping each other, lifting each other up, bein' all average and junk, the winder is sitting there looking like an idiot putting a piece of metal in a non-functional clock. Suddenly, that spectacular dude is looking pretty dumb, right?

So you. Go follow your dreams. Be all awesome and change lives and fix the world and end hunger and stuff. But if you don't... if suddenly you find your world becoming unbearably average, just remember how special being average is. Remember that without us normal cogs, we've got a bunch of stupid clock winders.

All those special people can have their special lives. They can go out there and be voices, and have people look up to them. They can be idolized by millions, and have people hang on their every word. They shoot for the moon, because even if they miss they land among the stars. They jump from the stratosphere and fall to Earth at ungodly speeds. They fly airplanes and dream of great, lofty things. They invent jet packs and hover boards (still holding out for these, actually) and fly with the birds.

Me? I write a blog that 9 people read. I fear the unexamined life, and instead live the thoroughly-examined life. Both my feet stay on the ground, right where they belong. I smile and wave at people I don't know, and have good days and bad days. I tell stories that people laugh at, and laugh when people tell me stories. And you know what? I'm just fine being a cog. Because I'll sit here and work and go unnoticed than to wind a broken clock any day of the week.

A Post. A REALLY long post.

I realized lately that I have... abused this blog a bit. I've realized that I've used it to vent, and complain, and whine and cry and piss and moan. I've used it at times when I was feeling emotional, namely sad, to vent feelings that were momentary and fleeting. I have been abusing this blog. 


So, to say sorry to my blog, and those of you who have taken time out of your day for whatever reason to read it, I'm going to make a promise and begin something a little different. I'm gonna use this blog to uplift people. Hey, that's kinda what I like to do right? Fortunately it only took me 15 blog posts to realize it. 


So here's my first one. I'm going to try to make it fun, and light, and maybe make you feel good. Because right now, and for 95% of my life, I feel good. Sometimes even great. So why should I focus on the other 5% of moments, where the smiles and laughter turn into frowns, occasional tears, and more often than not a carton of cookie dough, or other such guilty pleasures. 


I've challenged myself lately. I've been trying to pray and read my scriptures every day. Morning and night. Something that I realized as I was praying was the fact that I was asking a lot of God. I was asking him to protect me, asking him to forgive me, asking him to help me with A B and C, asking him to watch over my family, asking him for help with tests, friends, and everything else. These were very personal and intimate, but I found that the start of my prayers, where I tried to thank him, felt generic. So I've tried something a little different lately. I've tried to thank him for everything. Things that seem trivial. But I read a quote lately that made me think. "What if you woke up tomorrow with only the things that you thanked God for the night before?" or something like that. Now I hate to get too preachy or whatever in these posts because I don't claim to be perfect, and I know that some of you reading don't even believe in God. But I've found that if I pray and I thank God for everything, even stupid trivial stuff, or small moments where I felt his influence, or times in the past that come to memory, that my prayer feels much more personal. 


So I'm going to challenge myself to do that now, at the close of the semester. Which I'm sure will result in tears, but fortunately you're reading this so you can't hear/see me ugly crying. So here it goes:


I'm thankful for my family, first and foremost. My Mother for being an anchor at all times. For always knowing what to say and what not to say. For always seeming like she (you, if you're reading this) had everything figured out, even in times when it seemed impossible. For reminding me that it's okay to have no idea what's going on. For never flipping out. For respecting me enough to let me make mistakes. For loving me enough to make suggestions on how not to. For caring enough to hear about my stupid problems, and for reminding me that God and you are always there for me, even when I don't think either are. 


I'm thankful for my Dad. Who taught me to own up to my mistakes. He has taught me that we are all human and because of that we are allowed to make mistakes. However, the more important lesson that he taught me is to accept the responsibility associated with those actions: their consequences. Good, bad or in between, these consequences can and must change us. He taught me to be mentally tough in times when it seemed inevitable to break down. He taught me to respect women and everybody else just the same. He taught me that it's okay to be mad at people. He taught me that it was more important to say "I'm sorry" every now and then. What I'm most grateful for though is that I got my Dad's sense of humor. Some call me sick. Some say "Wow, you Tommy'd it" (Meaning that I crossed some kind of line. Which I always argue that I have not.) But everybody around me says I'm funny. And personally, I think my Dad is one of the funniest people I know. My Dad, at 50, has gotten older but never grown up. He still knows how to have a good time. He reminds me that even when things get bad, we can choose to get mad or we can laugh at them. While he still struggles to not get mad sometimes, he has shown me that it's better to laugh. Because when we laugh at bad situations, they tend to get easier. I like to follow this philosophy as often as possible. So thank you, Dad, for giving me your funny. For letting me entertain others with your lame jokes, your strange or sick attitude on things, and for helping me learn to be quick witted and sharp tongued.


I don't feel like I can go through each of my siblings, so I'll just group you guys together (sorry, but when there's 6 of you, it's kind of hard). You guys are so awesome. All those times we share together are fun. I rarely find myself ever arguing with you guys, and even when I do I feel it gets resolved far more quickly than most other families. Maybe distance makes us wiser, but I miss you guys a lot when we're not together. I pray for you guys all the time. I'm thankful for those times we can share, rare as they are. I'm thankful that I may get the chance to give Trent a kidney, and prolong and improve his life. I, oddly enough, pray that I will be a match and that I can give him my kidney. Because I think that this is what I'm supposed to do. Because I'm not freaked out by it. I never was. I never hesitated, not even for a moment, because I love him. And I'm thankful for this courage, because usually crap like that freaks me out. So thank you, all of you, for being who you are. For those little moments that I have memories of where we had fun. For those small life lessons taught through words or deeds, laughs or mistakes, that have stuck with me.


(Again, I don't have time for all of you. Not yet, anyway. Probably before my mission you'll all get personal letters, but for now, here's a group lump for the year.) I'm thankful for my Cedar City family. For the people who have come into my life and broken down walls. For those moments, planned or spontaneous, that stick in my memory with the intensity of a fire. I remember the small variations from the monotony the best, not even the big moments. Those moments where we went to the store in between classes, those spontaneous passings in the halls that resulted in conversations, which in turn resulted in one or both of us being late to class. Those neat little talks where we stayed up just a little too late, and our walls came down. I'm thankful that you guys put up with me when I'm in one of my moods, where I'm just a little "much". Believe me, I KNOW that it happens. But I'm glad you guys are patient and take them as what they are, fleeting moments and stupid or inappropriate jokes. Thank you everybody for taking me in, and making me a part of a family. You know, they say that friends are the family you get to choose. Well, I don't think I chose you guys. I think-- no, I know-- that God put us all together, brief as it's been, for a reason. He chose our Cedar family, and we just went right along with it. And remember, even if I am 500 miles away, it's a phone call, text, or skype call away. And you guys know I don't sleep, so just get in contact. And plus I'll kill you if you don't. There, that was to help those of you who were crying. Pansies.


And my Lancaster friends. Don't think that I've forgotten about you. No such luck, you wonderful group of people. You guys got to see four of the worst years of my life, and yet somehow you stuck with me for 1-4 years anyway. You guys probably saw me change the most that I ever have in my entirely life. There was so much physical, emotional, spiritual, and academic growth that you guys got to witness that I'm honestly surprised you stuck with my as long as you guys did. But I'm oh SO thankful that you did. I'm glad for those little Skype dates we've taken time out of our days to include. I'm glad for brief text conversations. I'm glad for all those times that we had in high school that I still remember with the same intensity I listed earlier. I'm glad for pranks pulled, laughs had, tears shared, stupid things done together, and most of all for four years that were only made survivable thanks to you guys. So thank you. Know that no matter how much you touched my life no matter how briefly.


Now to acquaintances. I know there are a few of you who read this blog. Thank you. For whatever reason, you just spent 10 minutes (maybe more, if you're still in speed reading for dummies volume uno like I am) reading crap about which you have no i-frickin'-dea about. Thanks for taking time to read about me. Thanks for moments shared, brief though they've been, where we've felt a bond through words. Thanks for fleeting waves, smiles, or even awkward "hello's" in passing. Thank you for taking time out of your day to connect your soul to mine, despite the looseness of the connection. I only hope that you take this as an invitation to grow closer. Seriously, just message me on Facebook or text me or something. Better yet say hi in person. I can be FAR more entertaining in person. Let me help you laugh. Let me help you smile. Let me say "hello" and make it not feel awkward. No matter your objective, know that I'm always open to new friends, and that I love you. It sounds weird, but I do. 


I'm thankful for my future wife. I don't know who you are, who you are, or even if you'll ever read this. I hope not, because there's probably more grammar errors in here than a Russian Kindergartener Yoda's first English sentence. But I've been promised in my patriarchal blessing that you are out there, and that you are special. And I know you are, because I'm coming to realize that I'm pretty freaking special too. So thank you, wherever you are, whoever you are, for being you. For being somebody who is not perfect, but perfect for me. For withstanding whatever tough things you face because some day we'll laugh at them. Some day we'll lie next to each other, sharing secrets we've told nobody. Thank you for those long talks we'll soon have. Thank you for laughing at my lame jokes, even when we both know that they're stupid. Thank you for standing up for what you know is right in times when it seems hard. Thank you for being who you are, and inspiring those around you with your words and actions. Thank you for being patient, understanding, kind to all, nonjudgemental, funny, fun and way out of my league. Thank you for not being the girl of my dreams, but better than her. And most of all, thank you for (whatever reason) saying yes. I hope that I can live up to your expectations, maybe even exceed them every now and then.


Last but not least, I'm thankful for circumstances granted me by a divine creator. I'm thankful for the family I was predestined into. I'm thankful for being born into the Church of Jesus Christ of Ladder Day Saints. I'm thankful for the choice I have to serve a mission for this church. Because this church has brought a lot of clarity and happiness into my life. I'm still working out its finer details and gaining a testimony, but I'm thankful even for that. I'm thankful for a strong (well...) working body. I'm thankful for a strong (well...) working mind. I'm thankful for my quirks. Those little things that make things go "Oh, that's just Tommy, don't worry about it.." (and believe you me, there's a LOT of them). I'm thankful for being born in a land where I have freedom. I'm thankful I was born into a family that allows me to use that freedom. That always reminds me of how much potential I have, and to never settle for that. I'm thankful that they have allowed me to be whatever I want to be in my life. I'm thankful to God for giving me a bright future, and the knowledge of it. I'm thankful I'm born in a place that allows me to freely gain an education, a nice home, and a chance to live comfortably. For a land where I can not only survive, but where I can enjoy life. I'm thankful for those moments when I'm not. Because those small, brief moments make those moments when I am so much sweeter. We can't know how sweet lemonade is until we forget to put in the sugar one time. Hey, that's a good analogy. What am I, smart?


Most of all, I'm thankful to you. Yeah, you. You just read a giant thank you list in which you were maybe glanced at once. You took time out of your day to read this wall that I call a blog. You've encouraged me to write my feelings, and to use my words to connect our souls. I hope that you have felt me in these words. I hope you feel closer to me because of them. I am thankful for whatever circumstances have brought you here. 




Thanks for reading. Stay classy, friends. Remember who you are, what you stand for, where you come from, and what you have inside of you. Remember that YOU are special. Remember that you have been placed here for a purpose. It may be grand-- to be the President, or a great movie maker, or even a Broadway actor. Or it may be for a purpose that seems so small, but just as important. Maybe you're here to touch lives. Maybe you're here to touch one life-- but to touch it so deeply that its influence is felt for generations. Maybe you're here to save a life, or preserve them as your job. Maybe you'll be a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher, or just an entertainer. But remember that we are all connected. That there are invisible strings that connect us, soul to soul, that cannot be severed. So don't make these strings poison. Don't weigh people down with your string. Uplift their soul when you tie yours to them. And remember, most of all, that you are important. That you are loved, and that you have the power to change lives. You have the power to influence people for good, or for bad. That those little traits that you have that set you apart are there as tools. So use them to bless those around you.