I have moved into the uncomfortable, a practice that is essential for continual growth.  My lessons lately have been in accepting my inherent badass.

I am not like other people.  I differ greatly from my own society, and my studies and skils have brought me above and beyond the general populace to such a degree that I continually find myself hiding my truest greatness, to keep from sticking out too much.

I already stick out.  I am a juggler and a life insurance agent, a dichotomy that I use to my advantage.  I have a unique look, with a thick chinstrap beard and an athletic build on a wide frame.  I am sometimes physically imposing to the degree that I make others around me fearful, so I have cultivated the habit of lessening myself to protect the comfort of others in a monotone world.  My colors rise too far, too fast to maintain my membership in the audience.

If I become truly myself, I am always the star.

I went to a party on the night before Halloween.  The dress code was vague; wear black and white, costume-ish.  I wore the silver space Eskimo costume I had used recently when I was hired at a recent party to juggle and ply my card tricks; when I showed up there was a few tuxedoes, some drab white and black combinations of jackets and slacks, and a few cocktail dresses.

I did not fit in.

Some of my friends were outside, amazed at my appearance, and my hesitation nearly led to my departure.  But these friends knew me well enough to recognize that I was not being true to myself.  “You need to own it!” one of them said.

So I went into the party, and I owned it.

People were fascinated.  Literally.  My candor, my impulsiveness, my grace and my palpable static energized the atmosphere.  People were talking about me all night.  I became the focus of conversations, and my antics were related with debates about my intentions.

Suddenly, I felt at home.

I juggled, I mingled, I laughed, I had an amazing time, because I had allowed myself to be the badass that I am.

I finally learned the lesson in this passage:


Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,
talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.

There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other

people won’t feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

—Marianne Williamson