Less than Ordinary

My cross-country skiing looks like cross-country shuffling. My ukulele playing sometimes sounds like fourth grade band room. My dancing looks like nerdy, rural, white girl.
 
Yet, to me my cross-country skiing feels like gliding and sometimes when it's just right for a few feet, it feels like lying. To me my ukulele playing makes me happy. I marvel when my fingers finally move smoothly over a riff, and I smile as a chord rings true. To me, my dancing feels like emergent moving impulse taking form through my body. The stuttered expression of rhythm sending shivers down my spine.

I am certainly not going to win any medals or prizes, as I am quite ordinary. Actually, I can be strikingly less than ordinary.
 
I am discovering that less than ordinary holds and allows freedom. I can try new or old things and enjoy them simply for the sake of doing them. I can be curious about how the experience feels in my body. I don’t have to be concerned about it being something which might impress others, so they might think I am somebody.
 
I can be, I am, somebody without having to be somebody. I simply am the somebody that I am.
 
The somebody I am enjoys the sensations when someone else does express appreciation of me. Something I said resonates for them. They enjoy something I created. They like a color I wear. Those expressions of another feel good and pleasurable. Sometimes I even expand more from them.
 
I savor the goodness of the feeling and it becomes a resource for the times when I forget that I don't need to be somebody to be somebody. I remember the feeling of being somebody to someone and the feeling will always be mine, never to be taken away.
 
I can know when there isn't someone here to tell me I am somebody, I am already and always somebody. Somebody continuing to unfold fully into less than ordinary.
 
Here I am happy. It is simple. I don't have to try. I just be, because there is no pressure to be more than I am. Then the more that I am simply is. I live into being more of the me who I already am. The Boundless me, already and always present and aware whether I am aware or not.