I recently watched an interview with Simon Cowell, he of X Factor, Britain’s Got Talent and American Idol fame. It was a repeat, but I never saw it the first time it aired. Not so sure I would have watched it this time, to be perfectly honest, if there’d been anything else worth watching on TV.
Not that I was obliged to watch television. It’s not like I had nothing else to do. I was just in the mood for it. And he was as good as it got, at the time.
What have I got against him? Nothing really, other than I don’t think he has to be as mean-spirited and cruel as he usually is, when he’s judging those talent (or the lack there of) shows. Don’t get me wrong. He can spot talent. I do respect his standards. I have high standards myself. But I think you can be discerning, honest and kind at the same time.
Polite, too. You can also be polite at the same time. He’s often very rude. Another characteristic of his I can live without.
But he did say something very interesting at the end of the show, which made it worth watching. I’m paraphrasing here, but essentially he said when the time came for him (and others) to look back and reflect on his life, he hoped his presence here on earth will have meant something. He hoped, at the very least, people would agree he stood for something. That his life hadn’t been in vain.
That he hadn’t been ‘invisible’.
Very interesting way of describing it, I think. Invisible.
Immediately I thought about myself; and my life. And what, when I’m ready to depart this world, I hope I see when I reflect back on who I’ve been and what I’ve accomplished and stood for, in my lifetime.
And I don’t want to have been ‘invisible’ either.
To have simply passed through, without any defining moments, in other words. Without an accomplishment. Without making a difference. Without leaving something memorable behind. What a horrible, sad waste of a life that would be, don’t you think? What’s the point of keeping all your feelings to yourself? Who are you helping if you’re not honest? What good can come of accepting a mediocre performance from those who are capable of much more? Including oneself, I might add. I am every bit as tough on myself as I am on others.
No point. No one. No good.
This doesn’t only apply to singers and dancers or writers and artists, by the way. It’s everyone. From politicians to office workers. From executives to labourers. From educators to health care professions. From students to sales people. Just coasting by shouldn’t be an option. Merely being a warm body in a seat isn’t good enough.
Ambivalence is the kiss of death. It should be struck from our vocabulary. Settling, is to me, akin to a four-letter word. I don’t know how to settle. And I have zero interest in learning. So then. My expectations are high. They always have been. They always will be. No excuses. No compromises. No easy way out. No apologies.
Guess there’ll be no Miss Congeniality Award for me, then. It’s okay. I can live with that. Without getting the award.
Being present and accounted for, is more than good enough for me. When all is said and done, not everyone who’s ever known me will have liked me. But they’ll all know I was here.