In order to be irreplaceable one must always be different.
Good morning people. I hope you had a great week. Today I would like to tell you a beautiful story that I read about two days ago. It's a story worth sharing
Now I don't really know the name of the guy who was the main protagonist of the story so we'll just call him the Little Brother.
The Little brother, an aspiring artist, saved up all his money and went to France to surround himself with beauty and inspiration. He lived on cheap, painted every day, visited museums, travelled to picturesque locations, bravely spoke to everyone he met and showed his work proudly to anyone who would like to see it. One afternoon, he struck up a conversation with a group of charming young people who turned out to be some species of fancy aristocrats. They took a liking to the Little Brother and invited him to a party that weekend in a castle in Loire Valley. It would be attended by the rich, the famous and by several crowned heads of Europe. And most of all it would be a masquerade party.
Excited the Little Brother worked all week on a costume he was certain would be a showstopper. He scoured Paris for materials and held back neither on the details nor the audacity of his creation. Then he rented a car and drove to the castle which was 3 hours from Paris. He entered the ballroom, head held high.
Upon which he realised his mistake.
This was indeed a costume party but, he had missed one detail in translation: This was a themed party and the theme was "a medieval court."
And the Little brother was dressed as a Lobster.
All around him, the wealthiest and the most beautiful people of Europe were attired in the finery and elaborate period gowns draped in heirloom jewels, sparkling as they waltzed to a fine orchestra. Little Brother, on the other hand, was wearing a red leotard, red tights, red ballet slippers, and giant red foam slippers. Even his face was painted red. He was also, of course, the only American in the room.
He stood at the top of the stairwell for a ghastly long moment. He almost ran away in shame. That seemed like the most dignified response to the situation. But he didn't run. That costume was what he had made, after all, so that's what he was bringing to the party. So, he decided to trust in himself, in his costume, to trust in the situation.
As he moved into the crowd of aristocrats, a silence fell. The dancing stopped. The orchestra stuttered to a stop. The Little Brother bowed and announced: "I am the court lobster."
Not ridicule ----- just joy. The people loved him. They loved his sweetness, his weirdness and his giant red claws. He even ended up dancing with the queen of Belgium that night.
This is how you must do it, people.
Whenever you create something which makes you feel like the lobster in the ballroom. Never apologise for it, never explain why never be ashamed of it. You did your best with what you had, with what you knew, in the time you had. You were invited and you showed up, and you simply can't do any different than that.
Lastly, remember, we are freaks, we are fragile and life is not a problem to be solved but, a reality to be experienced.
Love Scarlett 😊