brilliant

As part of a recent course, the instructor asked the class to write about a moment in which we felt most alive. “What were you doing?” she prompted. “What was happening? What noises do you associate with this memory? What color is that moment?” The class laughed when she asked about the color, but the answer, for many of us, was immediate. I struggled to write down the specifics of the color flashing in my mind: Light. Clear. Bright and in focus. Well-lit. White? Sun beams reflected off moving water.

As we shared, one participant said her memory was yellow. Those of us who knew her nodded, yes! Of course she’s yellow! One person wondered aloud, in a concise illustration of calling and flourishing: how can we help her be more yellow, or help her be yellow more often?

It wasn’t until much later that I began to apply the concept to myself: what does my color say about me? And of course, I pinpoint the color I was really trying to name, and with it the frustration and anger and elevation and pressure and pleasure and delight when people say to me: “You’re just

so

brilliant.”

There was a day last year where I vented to a friend about how my peers didn’t engage me or interact with my ideas or add to the conversation, they just told me how brilliant I was. I said the word with contempt. Brilliant. I took their complement as a statement about my intellectual capacities, an urging for me to perform so they could consume the words and ideas. My friend listened, nodding, then responded, with overwhelming strength and compassion, “Well, you are brilliant. Literally, you shine.”

And in this moment it all clicks together. It’s never been about intellect, it’s been about personhood and flourishing and identity. My peers have been calling me to be more me, have been calling me into the moments where they see me have the most life, have been calling me to be the person I was created to be more often, have been calling me to flourish—not for consumption or as superficial complements, but for delight and for glory. The intellect is just the self-created shadow I’ve been hiding in, hoping to dull the shine. What would it look like for me to allow myself to be light, clear, bright and in-focus? What would it look like for me to allow myself to be more brilliant, or to be brilliant more often?

I’m scared.

brilliant

Advertisements
Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: