Are You Remarkable or Invisible?
In 2015 I had just left my corporate job and moved from my home in Reston, Virginia to Austin, Texas. It was a huge change for me, not only because I was now unemployed and unsure what should come next, but also because I didn’t know anything about my new Texas home.
In some ways, it was an exciting time. I was getting to experience Texas culture for the first time (which I found to be quite charming) and I was no longer constrained by a 9-to-5 schedule. Opportunity and possibility abounded for me and, overall, I was enjoying my new life.
What wasn’t nearly as much fun was coming to terms with who I now was. I discovered unexpectedly that leaving my 26 year career as a software engineer left me a bit unstable. I’d identified myself by my career, by my charitable pursuits, and by all the people who knew and loved me in my northeast home.
Here in Texas, people didn’t know me. Most of the work I’d put into my pursuits in Virginia was essentially gone. I was a nobody, starting over and unsure how I would “prove” myself without the lucrative career, fancy house, and nice car that once defined me.
Was I important? Was I relevant? Did I have anything to offer the world?
As I pondered these questions, I stumbled upon a quote that resonated with me:
"If you’re not remarkable, you’re invisible." - Simon Sinek
What struck me about the quote was that it was the kick-in-the-pants I felt I needed to truly make something of myself. I’d never done anything truly remarkable, but I still hoped to. Mr. Sinek’s bold and direct statement was, I felt, exactly the quote I needed to motivate me toward being someone remarkable.
I wrote the quote on a card in big letters and kept it on my desk so I could see it every day. I wanted to be inspired by it. I wanted to avoid being invisible.
I wanted to be remarkable.
For years, I spent a lot of time trying to be remarkable. I practiced public speaking in Toastmasters. I continued my pursuit of performing on stage. I even tried singing for dying patients and their families.
Surely one of these activities would eventually make me remarkable?
I worked hard, I donated copious amounts of time to these pursuits, and I gave each of them as much time, energy, and attention as I would have if I’d been pursuing a new career.
It’s been nearly a decade now and which of these pursuits do you think has made me remarkable?
As it turns out, none of them. Despite all of my efforts, I never became famous or gained any sort of following. By Mr. Sinek’s standards, I’m not remarkable.
I’m essentially invisible.
If you plotted my popularity, my achievements, and my notoriety on a scale with everyone else in the world, I’d sadly be among the pile of folks labeled as nobodies.
For a long time, knowing that I was invisible to most of the world bothered me. I thought being invisible meant that I was unimportant. Worse, I assumed that as I aged, I’d become even less relevant and even more invisible. That’s what our society leads us to believe through the endless, repetitive messages such as “If you’re not remarkable, you’re invisible.”
Then, one day, while singing at Hospice Austin’s Christopher House, I met a dying man who sparked joy for me and my fellow singers from the Austin Threshold Choir. His story was amazing: He was a former drug addict turned minister who was now ministering to us, even as his own life was coming to an end.
He gushed about how caring the nurses and staff at Christopher House were to him. “This is such an incredible place!” he told us. “I’m the most blessed person in the entire world!”
We visited this patient three times before his illness ultimately took his life. Each time he told us how blessed he was, how gracious God had been to him, and how grateful he was for our gift of song.
Most of the patients we met at Christopher House were, understandably, sad or anxious and most were tentative with regard to interacting with us. A few would share their stories and while most were gracious about allowing us to sing in their room, we’d never had someone actually minister to us in this fashion. We always left this patient’s room feeling better than when we’d arrived.
At some point I realized that this man — whose name I no longer remember — was the definition of remarkable. He probably wouldn’t make Mr. Sinek’s list of remarkable people, but more than five years later, I still think of him and consider him to be one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met.
Best of all, I realize that there is still hope for me to be remarkable… if I can only make others feel as positive as he made me and my singing sisters feel.
After this profound experience, I decided not only to change my definition of remarkable, but I found another quote which more closely aligns with my new definition:
“When the room brightens when you walk in, you matter.”
— Seth Godin
The remarkable man at Christopher House helped me to see that it is the light we share with others that makes us truly remarkable. Our history books have no record of this man and, even though I know there was an article written about him, I cannot find it.
He may be forgotten to most of the world, but the light this patient was to us brightened the room and left us feeling uplifted. He taught me more about being remarkable than any of the quotes and books I’d encountered up to that point. He taught me what actually matters in being remarkable.
Do you want to be remarkable?
You don’t need to be famous, rich, or popular.
Simply be a light in a dark world.