Is A Special Gift Your Need Now? You Astoundingly Lack Capitalization Ability

Greatness comes from the inside, and once you believe you have it, it’s yours to share with the world

Chris Burkmenn

Whenever I find myself stuck in life, I ask God for another talent.

Then I look more in-depth, and I find that my need is not a new gift. The time this feeling strikes is a moment of torment. I strongly feel I want something that I do not know what it is. Life seems to lack something new, exciting and super rewarding. I may not be tall, handsome and athletic, but surely, the universe cannot be so discriminate to grant me this nothingness. If I am not gifted, who on earth is? Is my inner struggle about lack of a special gift, or is it something else?

To get out of this confusion, I take my head back to my village. And remember one of our good neighbours. My father’s late close friend. A short, humble, bow-legged man. The second shortest adult man in our village back then. He faced the God-given constraint of a lack of good stature. You know, height is always an advance disadvantage. It creates a negative perception on first sight, because it is the first thing people notice and size you upon. And for him, just like most of us, this was his mighty portion.

But he chose to become a force.

First, he married a beautiful woman, way taller and dominantly eloquent. When you saw both of them together, you wondered how smart their marriage fixer was. They were a couple that didn’t match by look and build. For that, she’s always felt obliged to explain the circumstance of her marriage—even today when she’s widowed, wrinkled and toothless—constantly reciting how magnificent she was as a young girl. How every worthy man in the greater location rassled to marry her.  That she was the most spoilt for choice of suitors.

That she loved dancing, mweretho, a fast, erotic jig where young men flung their female partners in the air while gyrating their youthful bodies in firelight. In those days, this dance was the gateway to romance and marriage in our community. There were organized competitions at the village level. And when the village got its best, they organized face-offs with other villages to flaunt their talent. And this went on and on, and the best dancers travelled and gained fame and fortune, far and wide.

This is how she met this guy, the world’s topmost dancer, she says.

Knowing his vertical limitations, he needed a smart way to attract and gain respect. He decided to twist fate by becoming a dancer. Whenever my father tells of his friend’s dance moves, he pauses a lot, because he lacks the right words to express the prowess. He jealously struggles to explain the passion that the short man ignited amongst beautiful women, whenever he stepped into the open ground arena, with his moves and panache. He was a phenomenon which every beautiful woman wanted wrapped and spun in his arms. He was the king of dance and gorgeous brides.

It is during these dance competitions that he met his wife. She claims that she was the most beautiful woman ever known in her generation. A woman that a man deprived of height and looks would never dream of befriending, let alone hitching. She told us of how light and flawlessly skinned she was. Men were all over her – rich, tall, and handsome flooring each other. But she only deserved the best of them all. The moment she saw this guy’s jigs, jingles, and plumes on the dancing floor, is the time her heart was stolen. And that is how she ended in his house.

Once married, his other life disadvantage came to reality.

He came from a poor background without wealth. Those days, it was cows that symbolized the economic wellbeing of a family. If you had none, you were worthless. There was no milk to drink, no way to till a large piece of land, nor currency to pay dowry. The size of the herd determined the wealth and respect due to a family. And this man, having no cows, had to find a way of surviving a bride on demand.

He needed a friend to help him fend for his kids and keep his gorgeous wife happy. And my father being part of the village middle class with oxen and a plough, was his first to approach. They struck a deal to become ploughing partners. In this case, my father being taller and physically stronger, would hold the plough. While his short neighbour would be the “oxen driver”. This is a crucial role in village ploughing and requires a unique gift that my father badly lacks—a singing voice.

First day of a rainy season renewed their partnership.

The man reported to work, servicing the plough and the yokes, and weaving his tool, known as mbothira in my native dialect.  It was a long whip made of sisal rope tied to a long, straight and smoothened stick. It was used to scare oxen with a loud, blustery sound when swirled fast back and forth in the air. Good for lashing them when they misbehave or become lazy. This was the main task of ordinary oxen handler. But his cow steering, was not unique.

The workday began early, drinking hot porridge, assembling plough and yokes, and tethering oxen.  My father later joined him, dressed for action. A tattered shirt, patched trousers, and cheap plastic shoes. His workmate wore patched shirt and shorts, and old car tyre shoes, popularly known as Akala. And off they went, with my mother leading. Back loaded with a basket of seeds and a gourd of fermented porridge atop.

Their ploughing was a public affair.

The old man’s voice caught everyone’s attention. He loudly sang songs for the cows with a beautiful, alto voice for a start. This was meant to make the oxen happy and inspired to pull through the tough day. Once they were tired and lagging, he changed to a more resonant voice, to communicate authority. The cows knew that it was time for serious business. Later, when they got really weary, he switched to a rap, a motivational speech of some sort, punctuated by a blast of the whip. It was time for orders and obeyance till close of business.

The day ended with a hot meal drowned with more fermented porridge. His eating was equally hilarious. He meticulously chopped fresh bird’s eye chillies, enough to turn his plate red. Then he devoured while sweating, tearing a river, clearing his itchy throat, and cursing loudly. Often calling us out to refill his mighty drinking tin with water. His loud, spicy and ungodly eating sounds attracted the attention of passers-by and distant neighbours. Everyone in the village knew he was having his lunch.

I enjoyed his company and marvelled at his ingenuity.

He ploughed our farm for a few days, and then took his turn with the animals to cultivate his land. The oxen kept switching ground until both farms were planted. In later years, my father handed over the responsibility of ploughing to my brothers and I. I enjoyed his full day camaraderie and revelled at his elderly comedy. The cows and I were treated to melodious songs he formerly serenaded women with.

His cleverness saw him use his youth’s talent to get what was difficult for his class of people. The same trick that earned him a beautiful wife got his farm tilled and sowed. His looks, height and family background never stood in his way. He knew his gift was voice and dance, and he used it to survive till his last days. His life was mastery of a single talent that he tweaked to suit his needs all along the way. He was indeed the king of capitalization.

Every one of us has an exclusive gift.

The divide is the mindset. Between those who think they got it, and those who think they do not. The mind determines who soars into greatness and who lives in commonplace. Ordinary people doubt themselves and find excuses for their failures. They fail to see their role in it, and more often, link other people’s accomplishments to a special heavenly gift—a favour from God and not effort, creativity, discipline, or determination.

The fact is, every one of us can be top in the world at something, if only we found and worked on it. Most of us do not see the gift because we have not even looked. We find the search too hard and instead, listen to the inner voice of excusing. And even when we discover the gift, inherent laziness stands on its way. We fail to invest our time and energy. We try hard at the beginning, then lose the steam, and move on to the new and exciting ideas. Or spring back to our default chill-out mode convinced that there was nothing more we could have done.

Success is uniquely a self-defined space.

It has nothing to do with what you were handed down by mother nature. Some of the world’s most outstanding achievers are people born with an extreme disadvantage. Albert Einstein was labelled dumb in his class. Oprah Winfrey and Maya Angelou underwent adverse childhood abuse. Wilma Rudolph wore braces and braved disability throughout her childhood. Beethoven was deaf. Reuben Kigame and Stevie Wonder are blind. Yet they still got what has inspired generations and transformed humanity.

Collins Dictionary defines capitalization as using a situation, personal or otherwise, to gain some advantage for yourself. It starts with finding what you are good at, whether at work, play or private life. This goes together with identifying what you are not good at, and admitting that you will never excel in it. But this is not looking for more comfortable alternatives. The admission of own strengths and weaknesses must be legit and carefully thought-out. And once you give up on what you can never excel in, then you free yourself to redirect your energy on what will make you stand out.

A unique talent does not necessarily lead to greatness.

We all know the stories around us, of child prodigies and adult superheroes who never made much out of their talent in the end. Dr. Angela Duckworth, puts it more succinctly in her book, Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance. That “as much as talent counts, effort counts twice.” Most of us struggle not because of lack of talent, but for lack of effort to capitalize on what we already have.

Earlier on in my life, I admired people of my age who seemed to have achieved remarkable things. I used to have many reasons why they were better than me. They came from wealthy families, or they married a nice church-going girl. They had bigger and more muscular bodies, or asthma did not run in their family, unlike mine. My mind churned all sorts of petty rationales. But today, I see things differently. I know I am capable of very many things that I have not thought of or attempted.

I now know why I am where I am.

I understand my situation and the circumstances that led me here. I take full responsibility for wherever I am, whether I am happy with it or not. I know that I am fully responsible for where I am going unlike before when I jealously marvelled at other people’s success and excused my lapses. I have learnt that many of those I admire, have come from much worse situations than mine. That I have unique gifts that I never bothered to discover. That my full potential can only be exploited through effort – whether to find it or make it bloom. I know well that excuses will never be the reason to give myself in the end.

I have learnt that my lack of progress was never from any disadvantage, but self-sabotage and other behavioural weaknesses. I have discovered that unless I create time to listen to my inner self, I can never mine what is deeply buried inside me. That silence, stillness and staying present is the only way to attain my breakthroughs. I can only reach greatness if I live like the great, and hang out with the great.

Spend time to find your capital.

Look at your life, and for once, be happy and thankful for where you are. Create awareness around yourself, and what gives you joy, while at work or leisure. Identify your strengths and stop the focus on eliminating weaknesses or perfecting things you do not enjoy. Those are someone else’s strengths; you better give them away. Keep the company of cheerleaders. Those who genuinely validate your path and celebrate your small wins. Those who have your back, even when the storm rages.

The gold that you want to dig is deeply buried in your heart. So, deepen your spiritual anchorage to enrich your intuition. Burrow out your dream, and when you find it, and you unquestionably will, believe in its greatness. And most of all, set your goals, invest time, discipline, and consistency.

In the words of record-breaking Olympian Wilma Rudolph, “Never underestimate the power of dreams and the influence of the human spirit. We are all the same in this notion: The potential for greatness lives within each of us.”

It is effort and persistence that brings out talent, so start making your own.