Yes – I made up that word. It’s a nod to an intriguing concept initially identified by Dr. Conrad Waddington (1905-1975): Epigenetics. The word brings together “epigenesis” (the formation of a complex organism from a single unit) and “genetics” (study of inherited characteristics) to represent the influence of the genetic background on our broader development. In recent decades, additional research has launched epigenetics into the lexicon of health and wellbeing. Fascinating new findings have highlighted how, while specific genes certainly may exist in me as an individual, the unique choices I make throughout my life can essentially turn that gene on or off. In other words, the same genes equally present in two different people may be expressed (activated) in one person while remaining dormant (deactivated) in the other based on their lifestyle and daily habits/decisions! Incredible!
“Epigiftnetics” adopts the original epigenetics concept and applies it to the variability in gifts and talents we see all around us (and may wonder about in ourselves). “You can be anything you want to be if you work hard and want it bad enough” makes for good graduation speech fodder for good reason. While it obviously lacks reality in the literal sense (I’m not playing linebacker in the NFL regardless of how hard I work or how badly I want it to be true), there’s something deep inside of us that believes – and is justified in believing – the deeper message.
For a moment, let’s put aside the headline gifts related to athletics, artistic or musical talent and instead look at a broader base that may be more relatable. Searching “most common gifts and talents” turns up the following:
- Technical and digital skills
- Communication
- Leadership
- Entrepreneurial spirit
- Culinary skills
- Problem solving and analytical skills
- Interpersonal skills
As you read through the list, is there one that stirs something inside? Most likely, you already hold the underlying components – the “giftnetics” – for developing one or (probably) more of these gifts. Activating them – moving them from potential to reality – involves the same process involved in triggering the desirable genes in the epigenetics model: daily choices. Or, in the words of our prototypical graduation speaker: “hard work (consistency over time) and passion (sustained focus).”
However, that’s also where the more difficult questions bubble to the surface: Do I really desire to bring the gift to fruition, knowing it’s an “available” gift but doesn’t come without a cost? Or am I only interested in the gift if it comes free of any personal investment?
The problem stems from the risk we are required to take in moving from a baseline competency to a gift or talent. A competency is something we’re able to do. A gift or talent, on the other hand, puts us in more rarified air. It takes that competency and elevates it x 10 (or 1,000). It’s one thing to access the low-hanging fruit of competency in a specific area. It’s quite another to invest the time and trade-offs involved in turning that competency into a gift. Doing so involves putting ourselves out there, which brings an element of discomfort.
Using the culinary example, there’s little risk cooking for ourselves… perhaps a little more cooking for family or a few friends… but opening a restaurant involves an entirely different level of risk. As we step into that risk, the awaiting pressure, anxiety, and fear builds accordingly. It’s much easier to default to simply pointing to others who “just have a gift” than to tune into the reality of epigiftnetics. If we admit we have a version of that same gift within ourselves, it shifts the emphasis from the external to the internal, placing responsibility for the outcome on us rather than random chance. Denying its existence or allowing the downside fear to keep it hidden from the world is a common choice, but is it really the choice we want to make with our lives?
Confession time: I’m right there (or in this case, write there?) with you. When it comes to writing, I’ve generally followed the default path described above, claiming I don’t have “it” that I see in others. Yes, I’ve taken some minor writing risks along the way, but I’ve always hedged my bets. I’ve written a few books, but only for very niche audiences. I submitted a column to a national professional (also niche) publication that resulted in 20 years of columns. However, even there I wrote quickly and depended on a strong editor to turn my rapid-fire submissions into the publishable result. I enjoyed it, but I rationalized that writing wasn’t paying the bills, readership was minimal, and it simply wasn’t worth the time and effort to shift from checking the box to creating something truly special. As long as I didn’t try too hard, then there was no risk. What if I did invest significant time in the process, focus my energies and give my all… but nobody cared? What would that say about my supposed gift (and thus about me and my place in this world)?
Don’t fall for it. Acting as if we don’t care and using that as a reason to give less than our best is the coward’s approach. Soren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) wrote of the “self” representing our capacity or potential, being understood more as a verb than a noun. He placed our calling to accept and become the full possibility of the self as primary – not just a good thing to do but essential for living! The alternative – remaining just another cog in the perpetual monotony of life – is safe. But does it represent the full possibility of our true self?
So where does that leave us in light of our epigiftnetics? It brings us to a critical juncture, a decision about the way in which we choose to see – and consequently live within – the world. We can lean into believing gifts are randomly assigned, freeing us from all responsibility while simultaneously trapping us in chains of determinism. Or, we can shake off the blinders and open our eyes to the presence of epigiftnetics, but then the onus shifts onto us. Just as the epigenetics research indicates 70-80% of our genes are influenced by our lifestyles, the same holds true for our gifts. We hold the key. Chained freedom? or responsible potential? The choice – if indeed you believe it exists – is up to you.
