As I type this, I'm watching a 7' 2" inch man called Giant Silva lumber around a boxing ring, trying his damnedest to fight a guy roughly a foot smaller than himself in an MMA fight. It's a sad sight really. The poor man can barely walk two steps in a row let around dance around the ring gracefully. Hell, he looks like a cartoon, and I don't mean that to be demeaning; it's just the truth.
It makes me wonder why we are born the way we are. Why are some of us tall, others small? Some born one color and others different altogether? Why are some of us born without sight or hearing and others without limbs? Why are some born intelligent and others without any wits at all. Is it the luck of the draw. Is it genetics? Is it God's will. A combination of all?
Truth be told, I'm thankful I'm not Giant Silva. I'm grateful I'm just a run of the mill guy with average looks and average intelligence. It's not so bad being average. It leaves you room to work your way up. It leaves room to fall a bit, too. No one is gawking at me because of my height. No one places any stereotypes or expectations on me based on appearances alone. It's a good life being normal, whatever that means.
But who am I to pity Giant Silva? I don't know the man. Maybe he's happy being a giant. Maybe it's brought joy and happiness to his life. Maybe being tall has brought him opportunities that he'd have otherwise never experienced. Hell, Giant Silva has probably traveled and seen things I never will, and all because he's a giant. He's probably met more interesting people than I'll ever know. Maybe he thrilled with his natural born fortune. I don't know.
Still, based on what I do know, I'll stick with what nature gave me. It's served me well. I've seen my own share of things. This average body and average abilities has shown me tremendous beauty, filled my ears with tremendous sounds, taken my mind on tremendous journeys. I guess I don't envy Giant Silva, but I guess I shouldn't pity him either.
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