My two youngest sons and I have an ongoing debate that continues to this day. I believe people are born with certain gifts. They believe anyone can acquire these same abilities. It depends on if it is something that they are truly interested in. I guess it goes back to the chicken or the egg. Does a person have this special gift because they have this natural interest in it, or do they have this natural interest in it because they were born with this gift?
I'm not talking about the gifts mentioned in the bible. We are told these are divine gifts given to us by the Spirit. I am talking about how some people, like my sons, can simply pick up an instrument and fiddle around with it until a song is born, and they play as if they have been playing for years. Or a person can pick up a brush and play with colors and before long a multi-dimensional landscape appears rich in texture and detail. Or somebody like myself who would much rather write things down in words than create an image. Long before I could read and write I would draw constantly, and once I became literate my world transitioned into words and that has been my preference since.
But the question goes back to "Am I a good writer because I love to write? Are the boys great musicians because they love to create music?" Many centuries ago mankind referred to this phenomenon as a Muse. They believed there must be some higher power a person tapped into in order to gain this level of creativity. They would refer to it as "their Muse." And as I watch my two grandsons begin to play with vivid imaginations turning rocks and sticks into imaginary toys I am still puzzled with the variations we all have of certain natural talents that seem to derive out of thin air.
This past Friday my daughter-in-law, Sara, ended up short handed with assistants and had three weddings to cover on the same day. She has a company called Violeta's where she is a florist and then some. Her eye for design and ability to create a color palate is uncanny. And I do see her getting better and better each passing year.
Of course, as soon as I got off of work I ran down to Mandeville to pitch in delivering flowers to one house and helping here then helping there. Most of the time my long arms were reaching things for her. My long legs were holding ladders for her to climb up and down on. I swept up behind her, lint rolled the white table clothes, stacked empty boxes in her rented van while she ran around like some mad hippie tossing petals into the wind as they magically fell in a glorious array in fairy land.
One of the brides stepped out before putting on her dress to examine the work and tears came to her eyes. Sara had displayed an enormous array of multiple flowers above where they were to say their vows. The flowers popped. She beamed along with the bride, and I stood there with leaves and petals in my hair. Water splashed all over my dress. And grass stains on my knees. What she made look easy sent me home to soak in a tub after only two hours of work.
I still continue to say that some things just come naturally to certain people. And they have a way of making what is very difficult look easy because it comes easy to them. And perhaps the twins are correct in that a part of that natural gift is being given a natural fascination and love of something, which draws them into a deeper desire to master it.
I just feel if this were true I would be a piano playing ballerina. Instead I am a columnist and will stick to what I know as I revel in Sara's floral displays and the boy's sweet tunes.
