Once upon a time, there were two best friends. Paper-pusher seemed to define one, while the other was firmly rooted in a more creative, glamorous role. On the surface, they could be known as Boring and Excitement.
Years went by with these definitions in place. The former always wanted to be like the other, and the latter seemed to have a strange hunger for a less-creative role. They say the grass is always greener on the other side, and this dynamic certainly seemed to be in play.
One evening, the two were talking. Boring said to Excitement, “I just wish I was more creative. I feel like I’m about 5%, while you’re the other 95%.”
Excitement was dumbfounded. “Are you kidding me? I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around.”
The two argued until it became apparent neither would win.
What’s funny is that both held the perception that they were less than what they actually were, and each saw the other in a beautiful, shimmering light — a light that’s so hard to see when we look in the mirror.
Sometimes we think we’ve been blessed with only a thimble-full of what we dream about, and it takes someone else to point out the trough we’ve been hanging out in all along. Tonight I am thankful for best friends who open our eyes, who unselfishly praise, and who unknowingly remind one another of their value — not only in the world, but to each other.