The Extraordinary in the Ordinary.

 

We want our children to be extraordinary. We want them to stand out, to be outstanding. The script is to never be forgotten. Leave a mark that is forever. Be the legacy everyone will never forget.

In business, be the Schultz, Tatas or Bransons. In finances, be the Buffets and Soros. And in technology innovation, be the Gates, Zuckerbergs and Bezos. 

Our dreams for our children are boundless. We want them to excel in whatever they do, and never settle. Be at the top of their game, and always striving to be the best, the head of the line. 

But what is extraordinary then? What is the “extra” in that word? How about outstanding? How far “out” there do we expect our kids or ourselves to go? 

Everybody wants to be a billionaire. But how about the honest wage earner? Everybody wants to build empires. But how about the one who builds a home for the family? Or the one who lays a brick for the company? Or the one who live an honest life, caring and sharing regularly, even anonymously. 

And everybody wants to be famous. We all want many to know us. We covet the attention - the more the merrier. But how about a father whose kids offer the most heartfelt eulogy at his wake? He may not be well known by thousands, but to the handful his life has touched, he is well loved, never forgotten. 

The question is, what is this pursuit of the extraordinary when such pursuit often leaves us feeling that we have scrambled up a ladder that is leaning on the wrong side of the wall? In other words, a ladder leaning on a wall with just you at the top and no one else. 

This reminds me of a poem entitled “Make the ordinary come alive” that goes against the grain of all that. It keeps us marveling at an ordinary life, for the many extraordinary milesones in it. Some of you may be familiar with it. Here goes...

“Do not ask your children,

To strive for extraordinary life,

Such striving may seem admirable,

But it is a way of foolishness.

Help them instead to find the wonder,

And the marvel of an ordinary life.

Show them the joy of tasting tomatoes, apples and pears.

Show them how to cry when pets and people die.

Show them the infinite pleasure in the touch of a hand.

And make the ordinary come alive for them.

The extraordinary will take care of itself.”

I always thought that the “extra” in extraordinary has to be something more than just being ordinary. But I was wrong about it. My mistake was failing to distinguish the mediocrity and the extraordinary in the ordinary.

 

You can be mediocre in the ordinary or extraordinary in the ordinary. The reality that you are ordinary is not to be despised. What is to be despised is someone who despises an ordinary life, wishing to be somewhere else, hoping he is someone else, never having a mind that is contented and at peace with himself.

Such a man will never be extraordinary even if he becomes famous, rich and possesses everything he strives for. Because even in his glowing status, adored by thousands, he will not be contented. He will not be at peace. He will not settle. Even in his death bed, his fist is raised in the air. 

At this point, some may say that what I have written is nothing but a consolatory piece, that is, self soothing self. But on the contrary, I see it as a contentment piece, self overcoming self. For you can be rich or poor, and still struggle with life. Because deep inside, nothing is ever settled and right. In the end, it is about a perspective to see beyond what you have, and savour the growth in the nurturing relationships you never leave behind. 

Here are three encounters that I find most extraordinary. They are examples I can only wish for myself and my life. 

I attend church regularly and sometimes I sit in the kids’ section. Without fail, carrying their son into the room was a couple who have been attending church for decades. 

They would occupy the front row, and as the message was being preached over the big screen, the couple would take turns to play with their son. He is mentally challenged, and despite his cries and wailing, they never let up caring for him. That’s truly extraordinary for me. A lesson that is timeless about a love that is boundless. 

I have a friend whom I have known for more than 30 years, and for a period of 16 years, he had been taking care of his wife. She had been battling with lupus, and at the end stage of her life, her immune system turned around and attacked her own organs. 

He told me he had many sleepless nights and when I asked him what kept him going, he answered simply, “she’s my wife...I love her”. That can’t be anything but extraordinary. 

And finally, some years back, I brought my daughters to Tanah Merah Terminal to welcome my wife back from Batam. My youngest girl was very excited about her mom’s return. She said to me that she has been waiting for it since Friday when she left. When she saw her, she ran over and hugged her. 

The bond was deeply touching for me. It was in many ways extraordinary. It was a moment filled with the simple pleasures of life. A moment when in one’s passing matters more than anything in this world. 

They are all extraordinary in their own ways, and none of their extraordinary efforts in the most ordinariness of living can be considered as mediocre. 

One is about parental sacrifice, the other is about spousal devotion to the very end, and the other is about a mother’s love. 

And in the ordinary lives they live, what inspires me most is how extraordinary their love, faithfulness and hope for one another are. Nothing comes close. 

Let me end with what I wrote about a life of great impact. 

I dream of a life of great impact,

But what I got is my daughter's hug.

I dream of a legacy others will marvel at,

But what I have is my son's respect.

I dream of a world that will remember me,

But what I have is a night with my wife, truly free.

And I dream of fame and riches I can touch.

But I think you've guessed just as much.

For what I have is a walk with my daughter down the aisle.

My reality seems to have missed my dreams by a mile.

They are so different from the dreams I wanted so bad.

For they are the dreams that’ve kept me running mad. 

But I know now it's not my reality that has missed the mark.

It's my dreams that’ve always boxed me up. 

They have led me away from the things that matter.

And held me to a mirage wishing for something better.

In the end, I do not want to miss the forest for the trees.

I do not want to chase dreams that are just not for me. 

I will not trade my reality for a dream, chasing a myth. 

And in dreaming miss out a life waiting for me to fully live.