When I was younger, I peeled the paper off of my crayons. I didn’t like the feel of the crayons in my hand with the paper on. The feel of the paper didn’t match what the crayon left on the paper. I wanted to feel what the paper felt. I thought that if I could feel the crayon as I was coloring, it would make it prettier (totally worked by the way). I also didn’t want to read what color Crayola assigned to each crayon. I wanted to see what the color was. If I decided I wanted pink to be called Pinky Toe, so be it. But in the meantime, the paper got in the way.
Just a weird kid with OCD issues? Maybe. Just a weird kid who lived in a equally weird world – all inside her head? YES. But I think that one random example tells a lot about how I operate. Who I am. Who I was before the world told me you’re ‘supposed’ to keep the paper on the crayons. How you’re not ‘supposed’ to get crayon all over your fingers while coloring. How you’re not ‘supposed’ to color your little brother’s face purple. How drawing a flock of butterflies fluttering down the hallway wall is frowned upon and will result in losing play time while cleaning said hallway wall. Before all of that, I was a just headstrong kid that just wanted to feel the crayon between her fingers.
Who were you before the world told you what to be and what not to be? What does that tell you? I believe the small things that create us as individuals are the keys to changing the world. If we can find the courage to be our authentic self amidst a world of copious amounts of comments and shares judging every sneeze and pick of a wedgy, we could make a difference. It sounds simple, but when you’ve been told your entire life you must refrain from blowing bubbles in your milk, its difficult to suddenly begin blowing bubbles in your milk. And then to blow bubbles in your milk while in public!? Blasphemy! The annoyed looks, the not-so stifled snickers, the bruise blooming on your knee from your bestie kicking you under the table – all things that must be expected and fended off.
What those naysayers don’t realize is that you will never see a child, man, woman, 82-year old grandmother; who can blow milk bubbles without smiling and giggling. Why just drink milk when you can blow bubbles in it AND drink it? It’s infinitely more fun that way! Let’s say the day you decide to blow bubbles in your milk in a crowded cafeteria, a recruiter searching for the face of a new, innovative company that makes straws which produce milk bubbles in the shape of cats? Your act of courage and individuality has now given you a brilliant opportunity and provided that next step for a small company trying to find its way in this big world!
Until you take a deep breath and blow your own milk bubbles, you’ll never know what opportunities await you, nor who else in this massive world might looking for all of the things you naturally encompass. The cat milk-bubble company is counting on you. We are counting on you. Grab that straw. Grab those crayons. And take the first step.
If you need a little bit more motivation, here’s a cat blowing milk bubbles. You’re welcome.