Rich and I have been meeting for early morning coffee out once a week lately. I. love. it. I find myself smiling as I type these words, and if you were to walk right up to me and ask me about it, I would probably find myself describing it as, "...something a normal couple would do."
Normal.
I also describe shopping together as that...and grocery shopping? Forget it. That positively sends me over the moon with giddiness. Then again, it always did. For instance? When I was married, I loved going grocery shopping with my husband. Because it felt so good and so normal to me.
Normal.
I feel silly. Ludicrous. Normal? But I find myself stammering around with my voice as I may have no other words to describe it. And normal? Well...this line of thinking keeps popping into my head whenever I think of going out for coffee and I feel kind of unsettled about it. It almost implies that my life is anything but normal. And my life? Well...it is kind of normal. In the grand scheme of things.
Normal.
I mean yes, I am creative...yes, I have my own business, and yes, I dress up as various characters and do photo shoots...But, I have things. Things going on...and stuff. I have that too. I have stuff and things that make me dance with happiness, stuff I struggle with, things I laugh about and find extreme joy and triumph in...and stuff which make me cry with sadness, grief and helplessness...I even get angry (ask the cats...I have raised my voice a few times over the past day about the growling and general grumpiness of their relationship with each other...I'm sure I'm not helping. I honestly don't think they even know I'm there. With cat's? This too, is Normal.) I have a inkling that I may be pretty much just like everyone else...
Normal.
But within that lies the suspicion I am somehow different than everyone else...And that? Well that idea bounces back and forth between me being suspicious and elated that I am different and therefore special...and I have my own specialness to bring to the world, and aren't we all lucky I have arrived? And then me being suspicious and worried that I am different in another way and will somehow not fit in...like I have something to hide and unless I do, someone is going to find something out and then I will loose my place.
Normal.
This pendulum leaves me wanting to point a finger at someone or something that caused such a thing, and I'm not even sure where to point the finger on this one...could it be because I was raised to be a creative and passionate person...by two equally creative and passionate people? People that encouraged me to think, grow, and create? People that had their own stuff and things to deal with...and allowed me to act it out with them...I'd like to think so. I'd like to think that every experience I have had until this exact moment has just added to who I was, am and will be...a person with a lot of stuff and things that varies from day to day and moment to moment until it's just perfectly perfect for me.
Normal.
Somehow the act of going out and having coffee once a week, or popping into the grocery...the act of the often mundane and routine has become seriously sacred to me, and brings a bit more meaning into my life...it's like getting an unexpected respite from everything else that is going on in any given day...and if I get to share that with someone that means the world to me? Bliss. Perhaps finding the balance in the pendulum swing between my suspicions is no different than anyone else...it just feels different because it's happening in my own head.
Maybe in the simple admission that for me, having a cup of coffee out is Normal...because it helps me hold my place in the world.
Maybe it's not silly at all.
Normal.
I also describe shopping together as that...and grocery shopping? Forget it. That positively sends me over the moon with giddiness. Then again, it always did. For instance? When I was married, I loved going grocery shopping with my husband. Because it felt so good and so normal to me.
Normal.
I feel silly. Ludicrous. Normal? But I find myself stammering around with my voice as I may have no other words to describe it. And normal? Well...this line of thinking keeps popping into my head whenever I think of going out for coffee and I feel kind of unsettled about it. It almost implies that my life is anything but normal. And my life? Well...it is kind of normal. In the grand scheme of things.
Normal.
I mean yes, I am creative...yes, I have my own business, and yes, I dress up as various characters and do photo shoots...But, I have things. Things going on...and stuff. I have that too. I have stuff and things that make me dance with happiness, stuff I struggle with, things I laugh about and find extreme joy and triumph in...and stuff which make me cry with sadness, grief and helplessness...I even get angry (ask the cats...I have raised my voice a few times over the past day about the growling and general grumpiness of their relationship with each other...I'm sure I'm not helping. I honestly don't think they even know I'm there. With cat's? This too, is Normal.) I have a inkling that I may be pretty much just like everyone else...
Normal.
But within that lies the suspicion I am somehow different than everyone else...And that? Well that idea bounces back and forth between me being suspicious and elated that I am different and therefore special...and I have my own specialness to bring to the world, and aren't we all lucky I have arrived? And then me being suspicious and worried that I am different in another way and will somehow not fit in...like I have something to hide and unless I do, someone is going to find something out and then I will loose my place.
Normal.
This pendulum leaves me wanting to point a finger at someone or something that caused such a thing, and I'm not even sure where to point the finger on this one...could it be because I was raised to be a creative and passionate person...by two equally creative and passionate people? People that encouraged me to think, grow, and create? People that had their own stuff and things to deal with...and allowed me to act it out with them...I'd like to think so. I'd like to think that every experience I have had until this exact moment has just added to who I was, am and will be...a person with a lot of stuff and things that varies from day to day and moment to moment until it's just perfectly perfect for me.
Normal.
Somehow the act of going out and having coffee once a week, or popping into the grocery...the act of the often mundane and routine has become seriously sacred to me, and brings a bit more meaning into my life...it's like getting an unexpected respite from everything else that is going on in any given day...and if I get to share that with someone that means the world to me? Bliss. Perhaps finding the balance in the pendulum swing between my suspicions is no different than anyone else...it just feels different because it's happening in my own head.
Maybe in the simple admission that for me, having a cup of coffee out is Normal...because it helps me hold my place in the world.
Maybe it's not silly at all.
3 comments:
Ok but what if you make your own normal? Like if you slept upside down every evening since you were three that would be your normal right?
I go there sometimes, only mine is more like whats wrong with me? am i crazy or missing a gene or what? why cant i just be happy letting life happen to me-work, shopping, movie watching bill paying family reunion normalcy (well actually nothing normal about some family reunions).....
but there's always More. More i want see than just normal. I want to make life happen...
Maybe i am equating normal with mundane.
Maybe i need a little more coffee...anyway, you make me think up in here. :-)
Have a happy balanced normal day-whatever you definition may be...
XOXOXOXOX
Your musings on your life remind me of something I read years ago. It has stuck with me ever since. It's called 'Desiderata.' It keeps me grounded somehow. I love "no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should." I try and keep that in mind when things aren't going quite the way I want them to,
http://marilee.us/desiderata.html
What you are doing is called growing up. We all do it. You have a fantastic imagination; you are creative; you have loving family and friends; you take pleasure in little things; you have your own business; you give of yourself to friends and to strangers on a blog; and you wonder about life. I think you're wonderfully normal.
Your suspicion that you're somehow different than everyone else is in fact true... each of us is different than everyone else in some ways. And each of us is like everyone else in other ways, too. It's the differences that keep us interesting and special, and the similarities that keep us connected. I'm willing to bet that some of the things that you think of as different are things that a lot of your friends and readers connect with. Keep on keeping on as you are, Sadira.
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