Your Ordinary Superpower

Estimated Reading Time: 4-5 minutes


Original photo via Pixabay. Monochrome edit by Waypoint Careers.

Sometimes the strengths that feel most ordinary to us become extraordinary in someone else's experience.

I don't often share social media posts in Career Insights, but occasionally one captures an idea better than I ever could. This is one of them.

Recently, Australian songwriter Sarah Mae Ahern and her partner were shopping at Woolworths Ormeau when something completely unexpected stopped them in their tracks.

It wasn't a special promotion.

It wasn't an empty shelf or a customer complaint.

It was a freezer aisle.

Every product was perfectly faced.

Every gap thoughtfully filled.

Everything lined up with extraordinary care and precision.

Rather than keep walking, they stopped and filmed it.

Within hours, millions of people had watched this short video. Hundreds of thousands reacted. Woolworths shared it. And a humble team member named Nigel suddenly discovered that what he considered an ordinary day's work had captured the admiration of people across Australia.

I found myself smiling as I watched.

Not because of the shelves.

Because of what they represented.

Watch Sarah Mae Ahern’s original Instagram Reel

Someone had quietly mastered their craft without realising how remarkable it looked to someone else.

We often think our greatest strengths are the things that impress us.

In reality, they're often the things we've practised for so long they no longer feel special.

Nigel didn't create immaculate shelves overnight.

It took years.

Shift after shift.

Shelf after shelf.

Over time, conscious effort became unconscious competence.

Eventually, excellence simply became the way he worked.

That's the paradox.

The better we become at something, the more ordinary it often feels to us.

I hear a similar story almost every week in career counselling.

People tell me:

"I'm just in admin."

"I'm just a retail assistant."

"I'm just a cleaner."

"I'm just returning to work after raising my children."

That word...

Just.

It quietly diminishes years of experience, care and growth.

Because when something comes naturally, we assume it comes naturally to everyone.

It rarely does.

Criticism can sometimes stay with us longer than praise.

A disappointing interview.

A difficult manager.

A careless comment.

Those moments stay with us.

The quieter moments often don't.

The customer who thanked you.

The colleague who trusted you.

The manager who kept asking for your help.

The client who returned because they felt understood.

Those moments matter too.

They're evidence.


"The better we become at something, the more ordinary it often feels to us."


That's one reason I encourage clients to keep what I call a Career Wins Journal.

It's not only promotions.

Or awards.

Or formal recognition.

Those moments can be incredibly meaningful and are absolutely worth celebrating.

It's also the little wins.

The quiet moments that often pass unnoticed.

A thank you email.

A LinkedIn recommendation.

A customer who remembered your name.

A colleague who said:

"I'm glad you worked yesterday."

A note from a manager.

A moment that brought quiet pride.

Over time, those moments become something incredibly valuable.

On difficult days, they remind us that our work has mattered.

And when it's time to update a resume, write a cover letter or prepare for an interview, they become something else entirely.

Evidence.

Real stories.

Real examples.

Real confidence.

Watching Sarah's video also reminded me of something else.

Nigel probably didn't know she was filming.

He almost certainly didn't expect millions of people to admire his work.

Which means none of his care depended on recognition.

He simply chose to do ordinary work extraordinarily well.

That's a quality worth celebrating.

And perhaps one worth noticing more often in the people around us.

How many colleagues quietly make our day easier?

How many people leave things just a little better than they found them?

How often do we stop to tell them?

Sometimes the most meaningful encouragement we can give isn't a formal award.

It's helping someone realise that what feels ordinary to them has made an extraordinary difference to someone else.

What have you become so good at that you've stopped recognising it?

And whose ordinary superpower could you acknowledge this week?


A thought to take with you

The qualities you've worked hard to develop often become so familiar that you stop noticing them.

Collect the evidence. Celebrate the milestones. Treasure the little wins. They all tell the story of who you're becoming.

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