There’s a race of men that don’t fit in, a race that can’t stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin and they roam the world at will.
They range the field and they rove the flood, they climb the mountain’s crest;
Their’s is the curse of the gypsy blood and they don’t know how to rest.
If they just went straight they might go far;
They are strong and brave and true;
But they always tire of the things that are, and they want the strange and new.
Few things have ever spoken to me as deeply as the opening stanza of Robert Service’s poem “The Men That Don’t Fit In.” For many of you reading this I’m assuming it will speak to you as well. Now, for as long as modern society has hummed along there have existed a few steadfast expectations that have been imposed upon its members:
- Go to college.
- Humbly accept first job upon graduating, start immediately.
- Maintain said job for many, many years - make your way up ladder.
- Find human you can tolerate, buy house, settle down, have kids.
- Reap benefits of life well planned. Repeat.
The vast majority find comfort in this system - it is the mutual fund personified, a safe investment in your future. For some of us, however, this system is what nightmares are made of. The mere thought of being trapped on such a lemming-like path is enough to induce an anxiety attack that no amount of Xanax could assuage. It makes us want to run for the hills, or rather, the tarmac. Robert Service continues his poem, writing
And each forgets as he strips and runs, with a brilliant, fitful pace,
It’s the steady, quiet, plodding ones who win the lifelong race.
Now, this is where he loses me — or rather, where I lose him. For many years, I bought in to the notion that my restlessness would be my demise. I couldn’t seem to find my proper groove, if I didn’t like something I would make a change. I beat myself up labeling these changes as mistakes. I was lambasted by myself and others for not “toughing it out” and scorned for leaving behind “great opportunities” if only I’d stuck it out a few more years. I had all the right positioning to climb ladders and do so with relative ease. But after making it a few rungs up the ladder, I spotted the jungle gym, and that looked like a hell of a lot more fun.
I failed to meet the requirements necessary to continue the climb, so I started swinging. From country to country, job to job, relationship to relationship I not only moved, I evolved. With each change I was not making mistakes but rather learning from them. It has not been easy but I’ve come to terms with the fact I was never meant to reach the end of a path already paved. I was never meant to win by society’s standards. I am part of a legion lost, I am a person who doesn’t fit in.
He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance;
He has done things by half.
Life’s been a jolly good joke on him, and now is the time to laugh.
Well outsiders, laugh we shall because we have not missed our chance. We took it when others were scared to. It is not our restlessness that keeps us from reaching success, it is what propels us towards it. For those of you who have tried to pass society’s standardized test for success and have failed, do not be dissuaded, for you have failed brilliantly. For those of you sitting on that ladder looking longingly at people on the jungle gym, I urge you to make the jump. Color outside the lines. Rethink what constitutes success. Life is not one size fits all and it is up to you to dictate your own results. Congratulations and welcome, you are a member of a race of outsiders, the ones that don’t fit in — and from our perspective, the view from the outside is a lot better than the view from the top.
