It’s hard to get the attention of a large crowd if you don’t have anything that would interest them.
It’s much easier when the large crowd is whittled down to just a handful.
Instead of focusing on being liked by everyone (which is barely possible), we can instead put our energy toward 2 or 6 or 10 people we care about.
Like any good teacher in a classroom, not every student is going to like them yet they can be very valuable to a few who learn best with their teaching style.
Or the local restaurant you might not go to, but others in your neighbourhood frequent every week.
Some things are just not for us.
Being popular isn’t necessary to do what we set out to do, but being here for the right people is.
As in, if not now then when?
Today counts. Just not in a way that’s tangible or immediate.
I haven’t had real wasabi before. Only the paste that comes in tubes at the grocery stores or the neatly shaped green dabs at sushi restaurants.
As a matter of fact, few people know what real wasabi tastes like.
But we have a lot of people think they know what wasabi tastes like—the spicy, tingly, nose-burning sensation.
And so we live in a world where we have real wasabi and fake wasabi.
Does it matter that most of the world (at least in our culture here) don’t know real wasabi if everybody else refers to “wasabi” as the fake one anyway?
Turns out it matters, but only to people who care about their grade of wasabi.
And the same can apply to us: The real you, who’s it for? Who’s going to care?
And the rest of the world, the outsiders—do they matter?