Sunday Story…NormalityI have over the years been addicted in a number of ways to a number of things. Presently, I have given up my addiction to tobacco and donuts. I am still addicted to the rush of endorphins that I get from a really hard work out; I am addicted to the rush when you jump out of an airplane or off a cliff into the snow. I am an addict…I have issues…I have problems…
Don’t we all. Aren’t we all. I just like mine better than I like yours. They are, after all, mine. But I do need to face them, my issues, my problems, my addictions. And some of these things are worse than others. But again that is a judgment call. Who is to say heroin addiction is worse than alcohol addiction which is worse than a sex addiction which is worse than a food addiction. The bottom line is they are all addictions. Even exercise can be an addiction…although I may actually be addicted to the endorphins and other brain chemicals that come cascading down upon me when I exercise. The addiction becomes a problem when it impacts my life negatively. When other people in my life are harmed by my playing out my addictions. When I go to jail after stealing to support my habit, or I kill someone when I drive drunk, or I cause irreparable damage to my family because I can’t stop inappropriate sexual behavior, or even when I exercise so much that it harms my own health.
Obsessive compulsive disorder is problem unless you learn to manage the manifestations of the disorder. The same is true of many of the other alphabet soup disorders we are familiar with these days. Actually this is one of our “jobs” as humans …to learn to manage our various disorders or problems…including the ones that aren’t considered abnormal.
What is normal anyway? And who decided normality? There was time in the not too distant past that homosexuality was considered a disease by the DSM. And not so far back there was no designation for ADD or ADHD. So our definition of “normal” shifts and changes according to our cultural norms. And what is normal here in America could be mild or extreme depending upon where you are living at the time.
I like to think I am normal. We all like to think we are normal. And we are surprised when the rest of the world is not as normal as we are. But the longer I am around the more I realize that normal just does not exist. At least not in the way that I used to think it existed.
I used to think that normal was how we all looked and acted. That we all shared a common communal thread that allowed our society to hang together. But now it appears that normal is fragmented and diverse. I believe this to be part of what threatens so many people. They are afraid that if the world does not look just like them they will not have a safe and secure place in it.
Yet who is to say that for the man over there that gay is not normal. Or for that woman over there that her decision to not bear children is not normal. Or for that couple the decision to adopt children, or host foster children is abnormal. Or the high achieving Aspergers syndrome person who just can’t stand crowds is not normal. All of these people may be normal. Black, brown, white, yellow, and red are all normal. The color of your skin does not indicate normal or not. Your religion does not indicate normal or not. So how do we decide what is normal or not? Do we have a right to judge normal or not?
We do and we must use our powers of discernment not judgment. There are some things that must be considered abnormal. Killing people indiscriminately is not normal. Cannibalism not normal and we are actually genetically programmed not to accept the eating of human flesh as normal. Intentionally harming people and animals with malicious intent would be another example. But the color of your skin or the bible you read or the language you speak or the belief system you carry, or who you are sleeping with should not mark your passage into normal or not.
The more I perceive people to be different than I am, the more my expectation of normal expands. Before I knew any East Indian people I would have considered their culture and customs as abnormal. But as I got to know them I found that they loved, lived, feared, laughed, cried, and bled just like I do. And I am normal aren’t I?
Our common human experiences are what make us human, both our laughter and our tears. The fact that you love your children and I love mine binds us together in our pursuit of normal. The fact that I want to be healthy and happy and so do you creates a place for us to find common ground. It is in this common ground, in this understanding of our commonalties that allow me to understand and respect the differences that create such rich panoply of experiences that are normal.
Maybe we should move out of judgment and into acceptance. As Rumi said…”beyond right and wrong there is a field. I will meet you there”.
Namaste
John
“Teaching Focus, Inspiring Transformation”
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