Being Exceptional, Opportunity and Success.

Today, October 10, marks one year from the day Naomi was due to be born. The slight change in the weather and little bit of rain has conjured many feelings from last year, and has left me reeling a little in the wake of the most difficult year of my life.

It's been hard thinking about what to write lately.

I have wanted to upload photos, but Naomi hates when I'm at the computer when she's awake and there is so much to do when she's asleep. So forgive me. Here's another photo-less blog post, and I'm afraid it's a little less than cheery.

An article on the cover of the Wall Street Journal inspired me to write today. It's got two photos in front and center -- one of Steve Jobs and one of his estranged biological father. You can see a little family resemblance. Apparently Steve's biological father is a successful businessman and owner of a casino in Reno, Nevada. He is also the biological father of another successful novelist, Mona Simpson. Moderately successful father -- two exceptionally successful children.

Although it wasn't the focus of the article in the newspaper at all, this story reminded me of the book Outliers, where the author poses a theory that successful people are successes because of their parents' careers, where they lived and literally when they were born -- down to the day.

Is it coincidence that this father has two very successful and creative children? I don't believe in coincidences; I believe everything has a reason even if it's not readily explainable. Perhaps there was a little help from their DNA. And because the two children were raised in environments (not with their biological father) where their creativity and skills were allowed to develop, the opportunity came and both children were ready to take it... and make it.

Does intelligence and advancement in certain areas make its way into the next generation even if parenting is not there to support it? How then, does parenting assist in the development of exceptional people?

This leads me to my persistent personal complex: I desperately want to be someone or do something "special" and "exceptional." And my life is anything but.

I'm terribly average.

Oh sure, anyone who knows me can name a number of qualities or skills where I have excelled, but I am certainly not exceptional in any of them. My desires for my life and windows of opportunity were not congruent with the skill level I had at the time. My DNA and hours of preparation seriously lacked when opportunity opened up for me. Therefore I've remained "just okay."

Want an example?  Take dancing.

My parents didn't have the money for a good portion of my childhood to put me in dance lessons consistently, year after year. I loved to dance, but I got self conscious when my body changed so I didn't pursue it through those awkward years. Then when auditions for teams in high school and early college years came, I tried out on a number of occasions, but was hopelessly unprepared to be among the skilled team members.

Through college, the love for dance was reignited and I pursued it course after course, year after year. However, I do not have a dancer's body because of 1) obvious DNA, and 2) the crucial teenage formative years were spent rather sedentary instead of in technique classes where my body would have been trained to do certain things, causing it to look not dancer prime. I also was nowhere near the skill level of the other dancers in my class who had been dancing nonstop since childhood. So while I was in the same course level, I was rarely chosen to have anything but a background position.

Though I progressed and enjoyed myself as my body learned to move, I was not -- nor will I ever be considered to be among the best, or exceptional. And I'm over 30; the window of opportunity to be exceptional is closed. It takes the teenage and college years to spend the hours of preparation so when opportunity comes in the late 20s or early 30s, it's prime for optimal success.

Not knowing this early enough in life, I spent those years doing other things.

And sadly, I still do other things than what I really want to do. But now, it's not about choice. It's about necessity. I'm living the consequence of my choices earlier in life. That's adulthood.

While this realization is often depressing to me, and particularly hard on a weary soul, I take comfort believing in generational progression. Naomi has two parents who have a pretty good perspective on life navigation, and who have made some steps toward excellence. While her mother may have  navigated her life short of being anything special, I believe I've made some progressive steps. Hopefully it's somewhere in her DNA. It gives a little comfort to my disheartened heart that I can help my daughter develop, perhaps quicker and more focused than I did. I often have my hands tied in her tutelage and will continue to have them tied when I spend 80% of the week away from her, but I can do what I can in the remaining 20%.

In generational progression, we stand on the shoulders who've gone before, even if it's only genetically. I see my older nieces thrive and excel in ways I didn't even think about when I was their age. I see them standing on their parents' shoulders. I believe that Steve Jobs' biological father gave him something, even if it was only DNA, that contributed to his and his sister's successes. I know it's possible and real.

But generational progression isn't automatic; it's everything about the little choices.

And though Naomi is only one year old this week, I have big hopes for her. And no, it's not that she become any one thing in particular. It is only my hope that Naomi will take whatever we've provided her in DNA or tutelage (or both!), and choose to use the developmental years and hours to practice and master whatever skill(s) she loves. So when the doors of opportunity open, she can walk right through confidently because she is well prepared.


She can be an exceptional success.