After a useful emotional crisis in 1992, I began to rebuild my self concept almost from scratch. I started asking questions that could not be answered by the cultural story that I had memorized. I struggled like a kid again, trying to understand the world for the first time. I did not turn to self-help books or friends for guidance, but instead struggled mostly alone to see through my new eyes.

I made a simple decision that would change the world as I knew it: I decided that I was worthy of a high self concept. Now, instead of striving to improve myself to the point of being ordinary, I had a license to feel extraordinary.

The decision looks so simple, yet most people do not seem to believe very passionately in their worth. At best, they consider themselves "one of the crowd", "a good person", or "a well-rounded individual". Wouldn't it be nice to surround ourselves with people who consider themselves, "extraordinary", "inspired", or "passionate"? Do we consider such self-descriptions to be egotistical? I hope not! Perhaps the common understanding that "I will be extraordinary when others begin saying that I am extraordinary" is false. Did the most inspirational people in the history of the world become inspirational by striving to be ordinary? What stops each of us from being one of the most inspiring persons in the history of the world? I found an answer: Our cultural mythology.

Virtually every force in our society--parents, media, schools--encourages us to do our best at being "one of the crowd". Of course, they want us to be a smart, content, and successful member of society, but still "one of the crowd". If someone is overweight, awkward looking, academically weak, lonely, unsatisfied, or has a poor self-concept, we encourage them to be more like the rest of us. We assume that they need diets, 12-step programs, self-help books, a new hairstyle, lectures, tutors, or therapists. This sets the pattern of struggling just to be ordinary. Most of us have thought of "exceptional" as being slightly above average: make more money; raise healthy children; love your job; think ecologically, love yourself.

All of these sound exceptional until you shift your gaze to a slightly larger picture: What possibilities lay at the feet of someone who believes that they deserve to be extraordinary? They become history in the making, and they have the potential to touch many more lives than the members of the one-of-the-crowd "club". How can touching so many lives be egotistical? Imagine the joys of struggling to be extraordinary rather than struggling just to be ordinary. For someone who believes that she or he is extraordinary, all of the usual superficial concerns seem to become irrelevant or easily solved.

Once we believe that we are extraordinary, we must give up most of the crutches that our society provides for us. Diets and therapists, for example, will no longer serve our needs. We need to dream up extraordinary things. We need to be creative and physically active. We need to surround ourselves with artistic people. We need to invent new ways to live. No longer will be have a map in our hands for the "one right way to live".

Once I decided that I deserved to be extraordinary, I headed down my path of heart like a locomotive down a track. I grappled with difficult, fundamental concepts about how our society (and I) came to be this way. Without realizing it, I began to think anthropologically. Suddenly, how humans have lived for three million years seemed relevant. At what kind of lifestyle have humans evolved to be successful? The old saying, "Ask a good question and a teacher will arrive" held true in my case.

Never had I felt as inspired in any one moment of my life as I did while attending a lecture in 1993 by someone unknown to me named Daniel Quinn. While he spoke of "how things came to be this way", my whole body broke out in a cold sweat and literally shook. Afterwards, I couldn't form words very well as I feebly tried to discuss the ideas with other attendees. His simple, honest words had struck every nerve in my body. I rushed out and bought an audio version of his book "Ishmael". After about a dozen listens, I grasped enough of what he was saying that I began trying to go beyond it. He later wrote a book called "The Story of B", which amazingly surpassed even his masterful thinking in "Ishmael". Once I had mostly caught up my thinking to this second great work, I again began trying to think beyond it. Something was still eluding me.

Now, I am beginning to piece together the missing link: As brilliant and inspiring as Quinn's books are to me, they mean little to someone who spends their days just trying to stay afloat. His words struck me so powerfully because I am always searching for ways to think extraordinarily. To most, his words ring true. To some, his words inspire. I will always place my bets on the inspired few rather than the knowledgeable many. An inspired person is a locomotive, not a passenger.

Ironically, Quinn does not address the very concept that inspired him to write his books: He believed that he could be extraordinary. He did not spend time treading water; he spent time creating, dreaming, and searching. He questioned ideas that most people take for granted. His books do a wonderful job of sharing the outcome of his inspiration, but they do little to share the process of it. He showed a little of where his inspiration came from with his autobiography called "Providence", but he did not articulate it in a general way, which would have allowed others to follow in his footsteps. I hope that Quinn's novels fall into the hands of many inspired people. As such, the world will certainly be a more inspiring place to live.

Perhaps someone will be able to articulate for the rest of us the process of becoming inspired and believing that we are extraordinary. Perhaps that "someone" will be you or me. I would love to write a book or ten, most likely fiction, to articulate the overwhelming joy of being reborn as an extraordinary person, and the difficulties of having such feelings ignored or unvalued by others. For me, it has been a solitary journey, and I look to creative outlets like writing, rather than everyday conversation, to communicate it.

I want to know what process you go through to become inspired. I want you to tell me what book you would like written so that I have a chance at writing it. What are the most difficult questions to which you would like answers?

I wrote the following words in the liner notes of my first album: "It is when we take the risk to share our joys, struggles, hopes, and dreams with others that we deepen our relationships and lay the foundation for a stronger sense of community." I have shared with you. If you have a way to share your story of inspiration with me, I would sure love to hear it. This door is wide open.

-- Dale Barnard (April 16, 1999)
barnarddale@yahoo.com
Dale Barnard's Home Page is his personal site, which includes this essay and other writings.