Don’t tell your daughter to be extraordinary.
Refrain from saying that she can get any job she wants.
That now is the time to chase her dreams.
To be bold.
Because that will teach her
that she hasn’t already achieved her dreams.
That her dreams are outside of her,
running away from her.
That she has to hurry
and chase them
to catch them.
Telling her to be extraordinary
teaches her that her destiny,
her magic,
isn’t within her already.
That her job she has now
isn’t good enough.
That she isn’t bold enough
by simply smiling and
showing up every day.
The world tells us that we need something more
to be accepted.
That we can never slow down.
That we need something extra
on top of our ordinary-ness.
When the ordinary-ness of her —
her crooked bottom teeth,
the acne on her shoulders,
her love for baking and making music,
the tears that form when she hears sad melodies,
her love for meeting new people
and writing poetry,
the way she tells herself she’s beautiful
without any makeup,
the way she sees divinity in mountains and waterfalls —
those are her extras.
Humanity is ordinary,
but the idiosyncrasies
within each body and soul,
completely different than any of the other
seven billion bodies and souls on this earth,
is what makes each of us extra-ordinary.
Her extras
are the only proof anyone needs
to see her magic.
That is one of life’s hidden secrets
to finding peace:
to not ask to be more,
and to accept and love
your ordinary-ness
and your extras.
To see the divinity
in just being alive —
that is truly bold.
That
is extraordinary.
Ali Walks Around 