I have mild face blindness. I rely on context to help me sort out who is who. So if I were to bump into my dentist at the supermarket, or my neighbor at a temple in Kyoto, it would be an embarrassing situation for me. People naturally assume that I'm indifferent, self-centered, and inattentive. The oblivious, self-absorbed jerk isn't trying to remember.
I understand their perspective. It's wrong, but legit. Anything that comes easily for us seems like it must for anyone. For example, my sister is fluent at drawing—it comes very easily to her. So from early childhood she held the unshakeable conviction that those who can't draw are simply not trying. This is how failure appears to those with natural ability.
And I flip this around...'cuz that's my talent!
Albert Einstein never actually said "Everybody is a genius, but if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid." But it's a great line, whoever came up with it. And I firmly believe it. So one of my life missions is to spot people with extraordinary talent they seem to not recognize.
Not some 11-year old violin prodigy headlining at Carnegie Hall. That kid doesn't need support or corroboration. But vast hordes of people—maybe every single one of them, per the fake Einstein quote—have near-magical powers that come so naturally that they don't realize they're exceptional. They figure that anyone could do it, but simply don't try (the innate view of failure from the perspective of natural talent).
If you don't know you have a talent—most people have no idea—you won't develop it, polish it, or wield it as your edge. You'll lack confidence, accepting society's default tendency to deem you shlubby. Me, I feel super shlubby, because I only clearly parsed my skills late in life. Too late to change my innate self-image.
So I tell gifted people they're gifted. It doesn't always go well. I might wind up with a face full of saliva, a missing limb, or any of the diverse and spine-tingling range of good-deed punishments. But it's worth the risk because sometimes it works (spectacularly).
Some such people have gone on to conquer worlds. A couple famous singers, the father of the Spanish internet....I don't have them all catalogued in my head (I'm not compiling a curriculum vitae), but there've been a number of illustrious figures plus plenty no one's heard about who create magic—making hay having reframed themselves from shlubs to magicians.
Don't expect acclaim. You can't expect oohs or ahs for your singular talent. It doesn't work like that. More often than not, you will be off their page, over their horizon, or in their blind spot. Twelve years of school leaves us with the misimpression that wise authorities scout, winnow, and reward the exceptional. Nyuh-uh. If you're an 11-year-old violinist who can whip through a Paganini caprice, sure, they've got you covered. But if you're special in a less flashy and cookie-cutter-ish way—and not simply the nth adorable fiddling tyke in a tuxedo—you will most likely be plying your skills mostly for your own amusement. And that's not nothing.
But this isn't about you. It's about them. If you spot talent, don't be abashed to let the person know. The worst that could happen is you'll be set on fire or have your skull crushed with a cinderblock. No biggie! You can coax someone down a path of satisfaction and accomplishment, and improve the world, with a few sincere, quiet words.
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