This is easy, a gift. A longtime colleague, a person with whom I had done business for many years and with whom I had a catastrophic and very expensive falling out described me to someone as “brilliant but crazy.”
I would prefer that he’d said I was brilliant and crazy so that the craziness wasn’t seen as affecting my brilliance in any way, but as it was, the ‘compliment’ was rich. Precious to me.
I am not always smart but am sometimes and when I am I shine. I know I’m not Einstein. I don’t roll out of bed gleaming with intelligence. It comes to me in rare and unpredictable waves that seem otherworldly and glorious. Apparently, my nemesis in this case witnessed some of these small miracles.
So, I found this ‘compliment’ to be worth stitching on a sweater or maybe tattooing on my wrist, inside where not everyone would see it right away but where I could turn my arm just slightly while being in a touchy situation and remember that someone once called me brilliant but crazy. I’d smile a bit like licking a small bit of burnt marshmallow off my lip, it would be that luscious.