“Which goes on first? My underwear or jeans?” This was my dilemma as a 5-year-old. One morning, due to temporary amnesia or my own naivety, I couldn’t remember the proper apparel order. I was planning to wear my favorite, Superman underwear that day. It was going to be a great day…if only I could remember which came first–underwear or jeans.
After a few moments of reasoning, I came to the conclusion that my Superman undies most assuredly went on the outside of my jeans. Why would I want to hide those amazing red-white-and-blues under my jeans? Besides…the picture of the supped up Clark Kent showed him wearing his underwear on the outside…it must be right.
So on my jeans went. Then my Super-whities. My socks. My boots. My shirt. Perfect! I was ready for the day.
I walked around in front of the mirror for a few minutes admiring my sheer awesomeness, until I realized that something didn’t look right. I had it wrong.
Realizing my failure, I began the laborious process of disrobing and rectifying my garment failure.
The whole ordeal really wasn’t a big deal. Besides a few wasted minutes, there were no emotional scars or flushed cheeks. (Except maybe my butt-cheeks from the rough denim.) Imagine if this happened to me today, though. This is how it would go down:
- I would start sweating profusely, worried why I couldn’t remember the proper order.
- I’d hop on the computer and type the question into Google.
- I’d feel like an idiot for not realizing the word “under”wear implies that it goes on under.
- My wife would notice my search history.
- She would start making fun of me.
- She would post the ordeal on Facebook.
- The incident would go viral.
- For the next twenty years people would call me the “Superman Underwear Wearer.”
- I would attend years of therapy but never outlive the scars.
At least that’s how I imagine the whole situation would go down.
What changed in these twenty years that makes this situation so different? Beside the obvious fact that kids get quite a bit more leniency for dumb decisions, something has changed internally. When I was five I just wanted to find out the right way to put on my underwear. If I failed I would just start over. I was willing to explore the unknown and experiment.
But now I’m utterly mortified by failure. “What will people say? I’ll look like such a fool if I fail.” Ultimately, thoughts like these hold me back from willingness to find the right way to do something. I can’t explore the unknown. My creativity is stifled by my insecurity.
It’s risky to be creative. You might end up walking around with your underwear exposed. You might not be seen as a visionary, rather a poorly dressed fool.
Or…you might end up looking like Superman. Take a risk. Be creative. Don’t be afraid to fail.