Hey! I’m not that smart…

Thanks to my parents, I grew up thinking that I was smart. They never told me I was smart, they never hung my art work on the fridge or bragged about me to their friends. I guess it was a process of elimination. They never called me stupid, and in their infinite wisdom never criticized me so I came to the conclusion somewhere along the way that I was smart. Kids don’t delve into that grey area- average, mediocre, “special”- We only do that as adults. So, lucky me, I was smart!

I was so “smart” that I was an underachiever at school- The principals always lectured me about working up to my potential. Maybe I was, but who knew? I was so “smart” that I quit school and found a succession of very good jobs, performed well and developed a reputation for being smart. I never stopped to analyze it but “You are what you eat” strikes a chord in me.

I had plenty of failures along the way, but I was smart enough to learn from each and every fiasco I created and I admit that I repeated some mistakes over and over again until I got it right or… right enough.

Life was easier back then. There was time to learn and the penalties for acting stupid were not very harsh.

Maybe being smart was different after-all.

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