Thursday Sept 12th
While in my own mind I like to think that I live like a normal human, I probably don’t. I say that knowing the word ‘normal’ is up for interpretation, that normal doesn’t even exist, and if it did, I don’t know if I want to be it anyway. (Please don’t think I am needing violins here, the good bit is at the end of this wander through the woods). While being a rebel at heart, deep down there is part of me that does want to fit somehow, to gel with some kind of generalised societal perception of ‘normality’. While I love long grass and hate cutting dandelions, I do mow my lawns and feel better for having murdered all that grass. I do like my car looking tidy, my home tidy, my clothes clean etc etc. While I would love not to care, the truth is that I do, but the desire to be remotely normalish isn’t for the good of others, it’s purely for my own sense of well being.
It’s stressful and tiring being different all the time, even when you don’t have to try, even when you try not to be you. I can get tired of being me. ( Think crashing waves not violins……it will all pan out) There are times of wondering if there is something wrong with you because you have such a feeling of not fitting somehow. Of course because I am older, I have worked thru many of the answers, judgements or assessments people reading this may already have in their heads. I always however, get back to a feeling that is mirrored by my relationship with clothes. They simply don’t fit me that well.
On a day when I have slept well, was organised enough to have breakfast, got to work on time and am reasonably at peace with who and what I am, I came across this video.
Part of my inability to blend, and feel ‘normal’, is that I find myself opening my mouth and having an opinion in a realm where there seems to often be complete silence. It’s like raising your head above the wall to say something when you know there are guns pointing at the spot where you sit, itching to pull the trigger. There is safety in blending in, when you don’t blend with the wall you become vulnerable and a target. There is such a cone of silence about some issues that we need to be healthily debating, and having conversations about. Note, I say conversations not arguments.
The world, or some parts of it have become more about arguments than the beauty involved in having conversations, with others or yourself. A conversation implies listening, and we have become polarised by our beliefs and convictions and lost the ability to listen to others, and to challenge our own positions.
The whole Syria issue in the news at the moment has scraped it’s dirty fingernails over my relationship with America and left me poking my head up and opening my mouth on my FB wall. It’s then I become glad that I do struggle to fit. So many intelligent voices and high powered people seem to be talking absolute lies.
My personal war is with America, and I say America acknowledging that no country is totally personified by it’s government or that a few are representative of the whole population. My opinions are qualified by the fact that I lived in America for nearly a year, I moved my whole life there in fact. I spent a lot of time pondering what made America America. I tried to fit my perception of America with the reality of America.
I also realise in raising my head above the wall on this issue, that the government reflects a national point of view or position, be it liberal or conservative, that could be termed classically American, and that could be representative of the majority.
My writing here is not about the issue of Syria, the BS and the hypocrisy of the US position on chemical weapons. I know about Fallujah, the white phosphorous, the DU(depleted uranium weapons) and the napalm, the deaths of children and civilians and that it will not be an isolated incident as France & Britain use DU weapons. I know that the birth stats of severely deformed children born in Fallujah is higher than those of children born deformed after Hiroshima.
I write today because my heart was warmed by this video, because something entered the conversation I have with myself about America that challenged my views ( which I know doesn’t apply to all Americans) and I felt love, and more understanding about what being an American was, than all the bluff and bullying and trumpets echoing the self righteous adulation and the we are the greatest mumbo jumbo………
I saw America for the first time today……..and I liked it, because these people were not full of it.
Maybe there is hope…..