Being the best may not necessarily be the best and being ok might actually be... ok

IRECENTLY sat alone at a street-side café in London. It was hot so I appreciated the shade and in a busy city, my location was calm so I appreciated the peace. For a while.

A conversation started up next to me between a group of media bodies. Whether their connection was through the written word or the televised one, was irrelevant. What piqued my interest was the focus of their conversation which was all about money.

They spoke about who was earning what, the floor to be working on if you wanted a higher-figured salary, the earning potential of emerging celebrities and the begrudgery over recent bonus payments. Everything was money with everyone defined by it.

It reminded me of a conversation I overheard while on holidays last year. Again, I was at a street-side café. I was not alone but the neighbouring conversation drowned out any hope of dialogue such was the pitch of the voices alongside us and the anger therein. It was a heated discussion about money, large sums of the stuff and despite the beauty that surrounded us, the ugliness of currency took over.

But back to London and tired of the plaintive drone next to me; I decided to extract myself, to seek again my erstwhile peace but it was only to encounter two red double-decker buses pass in front of me, branded with slogans such as “Be the future you, sooner!” and “You can be anything you want”.

It made me pause. In the middle of the second wealthiest city in world, I asked myself the question “can I not just be me – as I am?”

Ambition is a wonderful thing because it makes things happen whilst complacency can potentially equate to laziness, where nothing happens. However, is there no in-between? No place in life where being the best is not necessarily the best, that being ok, is actually ok?

At the risk of sounding like a serial eavesdropper, I overheard another conversation; this time at home in Ireland. It was a conversation with a 94-year-old nun. She entered the convent at

18 years of age and she said she has known contentedness her whole life. When asked about love and missing out on it, she appeared horrified. She maintained she had not missed out on love at all; that she has known it all along, starting out with her parents who personified love through their kindness to each other.

So I come to one final conversation; a conversation I was actually part of. It was between friends who have known challenges, who are meeting challenges and who own future challenges. It was an honest free flow of thoughts, worries, hopes and dreams. Our circumstances varied and our situations differed but there was no talk of money, achievements or being better versions of ourselves.

Instead there was acceptance with hope, laughter amidst fear and love amongst friends. It was just us. Doing ok.

And no harm at all if someone was listening.”