Conquering the Norm

I have not been myself lately.  That is, I have been out of sorts.  I have been bothered by things.  I have found it hard to concentrate on things I love and enjoy.  

I know environment has played a big part in my lack of being me.  Whenever I am around more traditionally-minded people in traditionally-minded groups (that is not meant as an insult, just as an observation.  Many people are happy being traditional and, in the name of diversity, I accept that), I get in this funk.  When I am in such an environment, I cannot stop these feelings.  I'm sure these feelings linger in such environments because of my struggles in and with spiritual abuse - experiences in which the non-traditional (based upon the abusers' standards) was deemed inappropriate, ungodly, something to be eradicated in repentance.  I'm sure these feelings explode within me because I've always felt different, and so many times, society views different as bad - as in need of improvement, in need of reform.  I'm sure I am dispirited in these environments because of people from my past - important people, people who should have accepted me, no matter what - who wanted me to be like others, who mocked and condemned me because of who I am.  

I have tried for the past few weeks to engage in activities I enjoy.  I have, with my family, decorated for Christmas and attended events that I generally love and read books to get my mind off of the feelings.  I have tried to enter into my favorite studies, my favorite worlds, but none of these brought the pleasure they have always brought. Still, I have not been able to get my mind back to where I want it to be.  

That is, until today.  

Today, in the midst of the environment in question, a scene for my novel popped into my mind.  It was so real, so passionate, I could feel the emotions of my characters again.  I could picture everything about this fictional moment.  Tears stung my eyes as I re-lived the words again and again, committing them to memory until I could commit them to paper.  

And tonight, that's just what I did.  I cannot tell you how freeing it is to enjoy this writing process again.  I cannot tell you what an emotional release it is.  Writing these words, enjoying this writing operation has allowed me to be me again - me with no expectations of change, with no misunderstandings.  

I wish there were a way to show people how important environment is in allowing individuals to be themselves.  I wish there were a way for true diversity to flourish.  I wish group think didn't exist and people could just be free to be who they are, without questions about why they are different than everyone else.  I wish ideas of expertise were grounded in acceptance rather than judgment, that variety ruled over the norm.  Until the day diversity is truly accepted, I will try to not let standardized ideas get the best of me.  I will do my best to stand up for the antonyms in a world that demands societal synonyms.  

"People are wonderful.  I love individuals.  I hate groups of people.  I hate groups of people with a 'common purpose.'  'Cause pretty soon they have little hats.  And armbands.  And fight songs.  And a list of people they're going to visit at 3am.  So, I dislike and despise groups of people.  But I love individuals.  Every person you look at; you can see the universe in their eyes, if you're really looking." "The larger the group, the more toxic, the more of your beauty as an individual you have to surrender for the sake of group thought.  And when you suspend your beauty, you also give up a lot of your humanity.  You will do things in the name of a group that you would never do on your own." - George Carlin