Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Today

People looked at me and smiled. I was sitting in a Borders Book Store Cafe having a tea and reading a new book that I'd bought that day. The writer is brilliantly funny and I kept breaking into chuckles. For those who, like me, are aficianados of the movie "A Christmas Carol" with Alistair Sim you will remember a scene where Tiny Tim is looking in a toy shop window. There is an automated toy that laughs with a bouncy kind of rhythm. I have always felt that I looked like that toy when I giggle. So people smiled, just like Tiny Tim, at me bouncing and giggling.

I set the book down three chapters in and had a sip of my tea.

Then it hit me.

A deep sadness.

I get this sometimes when I read a book like this. Most often when I read brilliant literature I am just in awe or impressed. But every now and then I read a book that I would have liked to have had the talent to write. Where there writer has a style, unlike mine only in the way that words spin to brilliance. I felt deeply disabled. Something that I would love to do is out of my grasp.

I have just enough talent to know that I don't have just enough talent.

And it saddened me.

I know that we are not supposed to compare ourselves to others as it leads to either vanity or despair. But still it's hard not to. Really hard not to.

"I wish I could talk like you," he said to me. He had come to a workshop for those with disabilities. He came and chatted to me intoducing himself simply as Paul. I asked him if he liked the workshop and he said "yes" but then he added that he wished that he could get up and talk like I did. I brushed away his sadness - diminished my ability to him so that he had nothing to envy. But envy he did anyways.

I understood today, what it felt like for him. And I wish I had that opportunity over again. I would have taken that longing, that sadness more seriously. I wouldn't have brushed it away. I would have seen the deep compliment hidden in his envy and should have talked with him more seriously about his dream. I had mistakenly thought that he was talking about me when indeed he was sharing deeply about himself.

How often this happens to me these days as I get older. Something will happen and suddenly I will have an understanding of something from my past - long past, recent past. A momentary light is shone for me to see glaring error, brilliant mistakes and sometimes surprising competency.

Just before writing this email, I looked the author up and sent an email saying, "I wish I could write like you."

That's all.

It's the deepest compliment that I can give.

It's the deepest compliment that I ever got.

Pity was - it was for something else.

6 comments:

Belinda said...

To one whose words pour onto the page with power--I admire you deeply for your skill, wit and brilliant insight. But there is only one Dave Hingsburger in the world--only one set of eyes that sees the world exactly as he does.

And I have learned that the greatest gift I can give my small world is to be the very best "me" that I can be. That's a benchmark anyone, with God's help, can shoot for and reach!

lina said...

Well, after the elequent writings of Belinda, and your brilliant pieces of work Dave, I am intimidated, to say the least to even write a response. I even contemplated leaving this anonymously, but thought no,I know where I fall short.
And you're right, it's a huge compliment when someone says they wish they could....well fill in the blanks....like you, but it does speak to what the person feels they are missing in themselves. And yes Belinda, you are right too, be the best me I can be - or at least most days. But even the best me wishes I could see and hear, never mind write like Mr. Hingsbuger. But since I cannot, how thankful am I that he is in my life and that I get to warm my soul on the words he puts together.
Another beautiful post.thank you.

Imperfect Christian said...

I'm never going to be the best. I'm never going to be the brightest. I'm never going to rise above all others. So I settle for being ME and knowing that no one else can be ME like I can be me!

All 4 My Gals said...

Dave,
Your insight and wisdom have become an important part of my reading. Know that your talent is touching so many in ways that you don't even know. You are not only a great writer but a compassionate teacher. Thank you for being you!

Lola said...

Dave, I just wanted you to know that your words so often make a difference to the work I do. I think I have told you before that you often put into a few beautifully written words some of the things that I think and feel and sometimes you give me fresh inspiration and sometimes a real big challenge.

I've often drawn upon your words as a way of explaining what I mean as they hit the point so well.
I also wish I could write like you and have the words to capture what I mean in the way you do.

It is good though that we are all unique, it makes the world interesting and most importantly creates a bank of talents and gifts that we can share.

It reminds me of the teaching in the bible about One Body Many Parts. (1 Cor 12) If all the parts were eyes then how would we hear? It takes diffent parts of the body to make it work.

x Laura x

Anonymous said...

Dave, I have said many times already that I wish I could write like you, and I've been reading your blog for only a short time!