To a Point

I don’t know if what I have is a unique problem. I imagine that it isn’t and for all of you that share my situation I am truly empathetic.

I sit on the margins of real genius. This is to say, I am smarter than most, but by no means in possession of an elite intellect. I own a quick wit. In many cases, I can comfortably say I have a penchant for identifying difficult problems. I also have reasonable insight when it comes to the big picture; I believe I have an ability to place events and people into a somewhat coherent framework.

These are my intellectual strengths. They assist me in sorting through my world. Often enough, they have proven useful, enabling me to impress a couple of professors, employers- occasionally even the odd female.  However, they are remarkably limiting and even self-defeating in many instances. My abilities carry me to a point- a point in which I am stymied and terminally frustrated.

Here is an illustration of what I mean:  I am often perceptive enough to comprehend major flaws in systems. I locate a flaw with ease and then I sometimes immediately, but always inevitably, reach “stuck”.  It is as if I have been told to destroy a building and recreate a new one in its stead.  I am only outfitted with wrecking ball, however, and sit helpless to rebuild. I stare at the ground and marvel at the emptiness I have created. Occasionally, I even visualize what the new structure might look like. Ultimately, I can only imagine. I simply do not have the proper tools available.

I hope this explanation has proven useful and is relatable for many of you. Sitting at the margins of intelligence can be a frustrating lens from which to view the world. It is the obstructed view at the Super Bowl. It is a rare sort of seat, and I hope that this helps those of you whom have sat there to contextualize their position just a little bit better.