Ordinary

As I was watching a show last night in which masked singers competed to see who could keep the judges stumped as to their identity, a word popped into my head.

Seeing Hollywood greats, polished, manicured, with their fake extensions added in (gorgeous), fake eyelashes and clothes that were tailored, I thought of ordinary people.

Ordinary people might not have access to all that makes one “camera ready.”

And it hit me.

Why is it that we as a society can only view what we see as “pretty” people? We have come to expect that the movie star or professional entertainer has lots of help to be “pleasing to the eye.”

I met someone recently that I will likely write a profile story on at some point, and it surrounds the idea that she has been at this (occupation) some 50 years (what I will highlight in my story.)

She and her family have lived in the same area since 1887.

!

As our Sheriff would say, “Did you hear that?” with Southern drawl.

You might say she is an ordinary person. At 78, she did not look a day over a late 50 something. No makeup. Plain T-shirt.

Ordinary.

A happy person, too.

If you think about it, many of us aspire to be beyond “ordinary.”

All of our self help mantras (I admit I use them too, just saying) .. like “reach for the stars,” or “be somebody,” etc .. go right out the proverbial window when ordinary appears.

Basically, “I don’t have to change the whole world. Just my corner.”

Or maybe not even “change the world.”

Perhaps, occupy.

A friend of mine lives in a beautiful house, alone. Yet looking at her life, I do not see her as ordinary, or alone.

Her home, decorated in her favorite purple, scented with warm oil diffusers, and lit with soft lighting, a place of peace and comfort .. and lots of books.

She lives in ordinary America. The space she occupies reflects her creative spirit.

Another friend of mine is sitting in her patrol car as we speak. Serving in an ordinary capacity as a patrol deputy, I find her day to be anything but ordinary. She wears no makeup. Once in a while I get to paint her nails. But as patrol beats would go, she would say yeah, this is pretty ordinary as far as law enforcement. With her highly equipped vehicle and skills, she is busy every day meeting people in the chaos of their unexpected moment in the middle of what should have been their “ordinary day.”

Today, I awake with the same word on my mind. It is Sunday, and I am getting ready for church. In my family, as I grew up, Sunday was definitely the ordinary day for church, though you can have church in your car, or Walmart, or the doctor’s office.

Ordinary.

So what is my point?

Well, I think perhaps it is a epiphany. (Did I spell that right? If not, please excuse.)

railroad tracks in city
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

A realization that “ordinary” is ok. Most people are ordinary. Ordinary is just as beautiful as “showy,” or “glamorous,” or whatever. Ordinary is productive, and kind, peaceful, full of wisdom, fun, a daily thing.

So while many days, I admit I have prayed to be fantastic, for whatever reason .. you know .. that is what a lot of us pray .. Lord, let me be ordinary.

Happy Sunday, all.

I am looking forward to singing in the choir today.

Even if I lip sync the high notes 🙂

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