The one talent

I recently was reading a poem by Steven Erikson (see post below) that had a simple yet provocative theme:

The painter must be mute
The sculptor deaf
Talents are passed out
Singly
As everyone knows
Oh let them dabble
We smile our indulgence
No end to our talent
For allowances
But talents are passed out
Singly
We permit you one
Worth lauding
The rest may do service
In servicable fashion
But greatness?
That is a title passed out
Singly
Don't be greedy
Over trying our indulgence
Permission
Belongs to us
Behind the makeshift wall --
The bricks of our
Reasonable scepticism.

This poem spoke to me. Each and every one of us is born with one talent that supercedes all of our other talents.

That's not to say that there aren't people out there who are multitalented. We see that all the time. Tiger Woods is multitalented. Cough.

Sorry, couldn't pass that up.

Anyway, when I really explored deeply into this concept, I found it to be fascinating. My guess is that some of us never truly uncover this superlative skill. It could be the woman who sounds so great singing in the shower could have bested Mariah Carey, had the cards fallen right for her. Or the dad who blew by all the neighbor kids in the race from the garbage can to the mailbox might have been able to blow by Usain Bolt.

For me, this is very clear. By far my best talent is writing epic fantasy. Nothing else comes close. I'm an average singer at best. I can't dance a lick (though I wish I could). There are third-graders who can outdraw me. And my best athletic endeavor ever has been bowling, though gawd knows I wish I could have been better at golf.

But I can do the epic fantasy thing. And you know what? I'd prefer to be a best-selling writer of epic fantasy than an actor, rock star, politician, sports great or anything else. Heck, I'd rather be a best-selling writer of epic fantasy than a pro golfer, and that's saying something.

I have the one talent.

But I also have enough talent left to dream.