An Uncommon Toadstool
I just sent an email to a good friend. In it, I told him that I wished to be as unnoticed and unthreatening as a common toadstool, the kind under which you might find smurfs. Sitting still and silent, unmoved by anything, though if one bothered to look closely they would be delighted with simple merriment of unlikely color and size – but not enough to move them, just enough to, well, to occupy their time without moving them in any way.
I wish to be common. Please. I think that is how one is most likely to get the things that most of us want. Like people who want to be around them. People who share both their ambition and their intellect. It seems that the more diluted they are, the more common, the more likely it is that there are people who will be attracted to it. Want it, even. The kind of thing that, when possessed, does not threaten the status quo in any way, so the possessor feels safe hanging on to it.
But here’s the problem. I am not common. Not even kind of.