Crazy.
I love it. I am it.
My children use that word very cautiously. They know that if they say "that word" I will almost instantaneously break out in song.
"Crazy....I'm crazy for feeling so lonely....I'm crazy...I'm crazy for feeling so bluuuuuuu...."
I kinda do a Patsy Klein/Barbara Streisand/Bette Midler meld voice. It's pretty.
It makes me feel better about myself.
(It also annoys the begeebers out of my children. Secretly I think they kinda like it tho. They just can't say so or they will get their kid card revoked. )
I like to annoy my children. Every mother has to have an outlet. Right? Is that wrong?
Stop it. You know you do the same thing.
OK that was a little off topic.
The topic for today is crazy. What is crazy?
Crazy is that thing that when you do it other people look at you like you are not normal.
Normal being that thing that they are and everyone else is really not.
Normal is a superiority complex. Normal is a navel (as in belly button...not anchors aweigh) gazing exercise designed to make one feel better about oneself.
Normal is a tag that we put on our own idiosyncrasies to help us rise above the rabble. To help us cope. To help us identify with our group.
We are normal. They are like me. I am like them. Together we shall rule the world...mwahahahahahah!!
Sick.
Normal is sick.
Normal is a recipe for inadequacy. It is the enemy in full on battle with your very soul. He calls you out, taunts you, then grabs you by your Achilles heel. "you're not normal".
Don't underestimate this. (yes I am getting on my soapbox)
If he can't make you feel superior by being normal then he will go all out to make you feel either sub-normal...or super-normal.
He will say to you..."you are not normal. Something must be wrong with you. You aren't like the other children."
If you don't buy that one he will go for this one..."you are not like the other children. You are better. You are strong and powerful."
Both of these could be true at the same time. Be assured that both will be played upon. Here is this little gem...
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
by Marianne Williamson from A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles
It makes you stand tall and say "Heck Yeah!"
(I never say "heck" by the way. I just had to put it in there for emphasis. )
But then, when the wind machine and soft lighting is turned off you are left with a feeling. Deep in your gut. A feeling that somehow you are not that. That you do not really possess a light that anyone can use. That your light is not right... somehow different....not for use to the everyday consumer. You are not normal.
What the stink are you supposed to do with that?
How can you touch that? If you are not afraid of your inadequacy you are afraid of your genius. You have been given a call to be all that you can be. All that you are. But what you are is buried. Or wounded. Or just plain tired. You don't have the energy to be one more thing. Even if it is for the betterment of both yourself and the entire stinkin world.
Seriously.
How, in the normal light of everyday existence, do you put yourself out there in such a way that you change the state of affairs for everyone within your light path.
How? How? HOW!
It is too much pressure.
In trying to rise above we can create a ladder so steep that we become fearful. We grab and grasp at each rung, trying desperately to climb and not fall, and we forget to sing. (what does singing have to do with this?)
I am glad you asked.
"Crazy...I'm crazy for feeling so lonely....I'm crazy....I'm crazy for feeling so bluuuuue"
Let it out honey!
Ok she has really flipped it this time. What is she talking about? (I am right here, I can hear you whispering)
Listen.
Normal is passe. It really doesn't even exist. There is no tangible level of acceptable. We can stop trying to climb above it. We can also stop being afraid of slipping below it.
Normal is word like supercalifragilisticexpealidocious. It is a made up thing. It has no real definition.
If you look it up it says earth shattering things like "not abnormal".
Or you can go for " conforming to the average".
Why. would. you. want. to .strive. for .this??
And, even if you could define average, how would you get there?
Holy cow, I am getting so confused.
If normal is not abnormal and abnormal is that thing that is not normal...I think you see where I am going with this. It cancels itself out. It is not a goal.
If it is not a goal then why do we spend so much time trying to be it?
And why do we hear the enemy constantly trying to tell us how terrible we are for not being it.
And...why, if it doesn't exist, and it is just used to describe the median line of acceptability...why are we so susceptible to the call to rise above yet fear that we are surely irretrievably mired below???
Why do we want to be normal?
I think it is because it feels safe. It feels like home base. A checkpoint.
Lies.
You can't trust this.
If we constantly compare ourselves to the standards of others we are liars and cheats.
There can be no comparison between us.
There is no normal, people.
You can group yourselves up into likes and dislikes...physical attributes...body odor or toenail length for all I care but you cannot go around telling people "this is normal and that is not".
Shoot...now I have to change all my ways of thinking. I do think this way. Even in defining myself as crazy I am toeing the party line that I am outside of normal. Gahhhh!
Yet, I like the word crazy. I like the connotation. I like the quirk. Crazy is not knowing exactly what might be said or done. It is unnerving. It is unsettling. It is weird.
But in an acceptable normal kind of way, yes?
NO!
See I was trying to trick you.
You fell for it.
I want you to love me for me. Not because I am that crazy one. Not because I am outside of normal or inside of normal.
Just because I am me. And you like that about me.
So if I want to be neurotic...or self absorbed...or easily overwhelmed...or if I want to sing loudly...or go to therapy for my repressed emotional baggage...or believe that God created this banana just for the pleasure I get in eating it...
if I want to wear no makeup....or only play board games with non competitive people...or not go to organized church...or have really passionate opinions about the way cardboard smells....love me.
This is mostly about being yourself. Being myself. Not some fantasy about putting myself out there for people to love and admire and aspire to. No. Just being.
I am really big on this. Being. Not striving or attaining or failing.
How can you fail at being??
Accepting that what you are, what you have, what you can put out or keep in, is enough. Being comfortable to be honest about your stuff. Laughing...or crying... at that stuff as you juggle the dailies. Love yourself.
**I feel I must put in a disclaimer here....just for clarity....this is all about Jesus. All of it. He is the air that I breathe. I am not uber Christian. This blog is not about my daily scripture reading. It would be fine if that was the case...but it isn't. Jesus. None of this that I am talking about it possible without Him. None of it. Questions? Ask me about Him and I will tell you what I know. I really really really dig Him. **
The Creator of the universe made you stunningly marvelous. You are not normal. You are not abnormal.
You are you.
Love yourself for who you are.
Love me for what I am.
You can even hate me for that matter.
Just don't box me.
Then again...if you must box me....
I will take the crazy box. Fits like a glove.
No comments:
Post a Comment