What's so great about being normal, anyway?

Last night was one of those great impromptu evenings that involved a whole lot of wine, and some really great conversation.  It was a kitchen-gathered meeting of minds where we discussed home, politics, cockroaches and love.   And I started to stew- somewhere between the definition of tannins and the future of the arts in Canada- between examining ourselves and what we’re looking for; what does the word Normal really mean?  In my bubble it seems like a given that all my well-spoken and connected buds condemn the ridiculousness of things like the Saskatchewan Film Tax Credit getting cut… and laugh (read: cry) that somehow there seems to be a rationale to support this move.  But I’d be kidding myself to think that others aren’t just as equally removed from my world, as I am from theirs.

I think most people are imbued with an awareness of “normalcy” right from the get-go, and it becomes just another word for the average, and the usual.  It’s what we grow up with and what we deem as being the set standard, to which everything from that point on (consciously or not) will be compared.  So what happens when there is a dramatic shift of our self-perceptions, or those of our surroundings?  What brings on these shifts, and more importantly how do we maintain a stable sense of self and awareness throughout?

Here’s an example.  I was looking through old photos one day and noticed a recurring theme in my snapshot-life a few years ago: I had no eyebrows.  Let me explain… I had eyebrows, but they were plucked so thin they were hardly visible.  I remember my partner at the time asking me once how often I plucked - and I told him hardly at all.  Just to pull the stray hairs, really. 
I had been doing it so long; my perception of this small personal norm had shifted.  What I told him wasn’t a deliberate lie, or even fib to protect my fragile ego: I knew it to be the truth.  But looking back at those photos actually frightened me because my perceived truth was so contrary to the actual truth.  I’d been doing it so long I no longer had an outside eye or barometer to my experience.

Throughout all of the appointments I’ve had with doctors and physicians to talk about my missing period, I’ve been met with one overriding and consistent theme: I am treated like a complete abnormal oddity.  A seemingly healthy woman in her mid-20’s should not have symptoms like these, and I’ve been met with many a raised eyebrow and look of bafflement at my condition (similar to my bout with high cholesterol… more on that in my entry on The Pill).   Sure, there were varying degrees of this response, but generally I left feeling like there was something intrinsically wrong with me.  And since I was already struggling with thoughts like this of my own cultivation; believe me I didn’t need a diagnosis to prove it.

But then- I began seeing an acupuncturist.  She actually talked to me and heard my concerns; examined my history, my sleep patterns and (yup) my tongue, then said with a clear smile and a complete assurance that I was a “classic case”.  I mean really, could I have that in writing, please???  What a relief to hear a reaction that didn’t include surprise and incredulity!  She said she would have me menstruating again (not fixed, or set right… and this change in rhetoric made a world of difference) in three months. 

Now I’m thinking about the bigger picture, and what this kind of patterned thinking does in a much larger context.  Getting stuck in ideals of what’s normal or “right” is a really dangerous place to be because it’s really just a hop, skip and a jump away from justifying narrow-mindedness.  It seems that normality has moved away from being a personal standard and has instead collected a whole slew of negative connotations to go with it, associations that seem to allow room for things like racism, bigotry and homophobia.  Anything outside of one’s personal experience has moved from being simply another choice, or another life- to something abnormal.   And what is “proper” male and female behavior, the “right” religion, the “healthiest” body-type, anyway?  It should be a personal experience and journey, instead of a collective one that’s set to a body-mass index chart.

The ideas of my norm are changing on a continued basis.  What I want out of my life, from my body, and in my relationships has swung a great deal from where I thought I would be in my late 20’s.  But this is not only ok, it is normal (my normal) in and of itself.   When I think of the people in my life l look up to the most, they are those who are always re-evaluating their situation and what works, striving to be as true to themselves as they can be.  Let me propose, as others have repeatedly in the past, that we commit to celebrating diversity instead of condemning it.  Instead of setting a bar to be reached, just leap- for the sake of leaping. I think it’s selling the world pretty short to think there’s only one type of (nuclear) family, one path to spirituality, or one road to your own personal brand of happiness. 

And just maybe, we could consider a slight change of rhetoric on our own parts too.  There might be a time and a place that could benefit from replacing the fight for equality, with a demand for diversity.  A beautiful, celebratory demand.  Because isn’t that what true acceptance is all about anyway?

Josephine

PS. 

If you’re interested in acupuncture, I’ve added a link to Six Degrees.  They’re really rad.