Living in the Dust Bowl of "Average" When I Could Truly Be Extraordinary

I feel like if I list all my faults on paper I might overestimate them. Writing has always been an experience in hyperbole for me, never settling for "average", but "great" and "grand". Everything has to be at the opposite ends of the spectrum. It has to be either "the worst" or "the greatest" thing ever.

The above paragraph is an example of me overestimating. Which goes to show just how much I fear being perceived as average. Everything has to be grandiose, and everyone has to pay attention to what I have to say because I do not deal with "average". Whenever something evokes a feeling deep inside me, it has to matter. I am not impressionable enough to think mundane things are great.

But the truth is, I am an average person. Some people who know me through work or my social circles might think I'm a jack of all trades. I can sing. I can dance if I really want to. I can draw. I can write. I can play the guitar. I can play the drums. But I could not do any of those things at an exceptional level. For every talent I have, there's an invisible self-built barrier that forbids me from further improving in those fields. When I set out to learn something, I start with figuring out the basics. Once I do, I create something at least passable to me - and it's over. I am no longer interested in pursuing the next level because I found that at a certain point of learning something, you begin to encounter a steep slope to get to the next level. I never climb that slope. I meander.

I have climbed a few of those steep slopes in the past, but when I get to the next level I feel as if it wasn't worth the effort. When I start to really specialize in something, I have to dedicate all my time on improving those skills, but at the same time I have to abandon the joy of doing all those other things. It's a bargain I'm not excited about. I frown upon the idea of having to give up something just to be a little bit better at doing another thing. It does not sit well with me. So I stop and regress. I crawl back to being the self-satisfied jack of all trades inhabiting the dust bowl of "casual" and "average"- not bothering to muster up enough effort to climb out of it and be extraordinary. I do wish I could be extraordinary someday, but not today I suppose.