I often see articles about "rules." Rules about relationships, about dating,
about what to wear, how to wear it. Rules are about what some body deems
appropriate.
When I think about rules, I wonder if they are needed. I would suppose they
might be a good idea in some cases, if we need to be reminded about others,
for instance with a traffic light.
When I think of what I have learned about marketing, a lot of influence is
to be had when you proclaim yourself an expert. When you can claim that
status, you are telling others that is likely a good thing for them to listen
to you.
How is the status claimed? Through titles, training, and things that sound
impressive enough that you think you may want to pay attention. It is the
expert status of those who are in the fashion world that has driven fashion
to change from year to year. Somehow they know what the best thing is
to wear. How exactly that is possible, I don't know. But they know, and
you better follow what they say, or risk being criticized and mocked by
others for not conforming to the "normal."
I wrote a paper in college on the novel 1984. As you may know, the main
character, Winston, from the reader's point of view is considered the only
sane one of the tale. What I did in the paper was make a case for Winston's
insanity. I did this by defining what sanity was, and it has to do with what
those around you think. Given that the world Winston lived in thought
differently than he did, he was - in that context - insane.
By the virtue of the rules that those around us write, and to the degree to
which we follow them, we create our own forms of insanity. As a society
we are often driven to conform to the way those around us look at things.
Those who break the rules stand out, and are often ostracized. For that
reason, it often seems to take courage for a person to be the person he or
she was meant to be.
Interestingly, the origin of "cour-" is "of the heart."
If you have the courage to be yourself, you will be living a life of your
heart. If you choose to go a direction that another says you should go,
then you are living a life of someone else's choosing - of someone else's
heart.
This is not to say that the two might not meet up, but rather to question
if it does, rather than just blindly following what someone else says is the
way to be, to dress, to act, to...
It is so much easier in some ways to let someone else dictate a path. But
it is only easier, at first. After a while if it is not your path, you will likely
find it difficult to keep up, expending a great deal of effort to keep up
appearances, based on what someone else has told you is to be expected.
You may even
find yourself irritable
and maybe even itchy
to just be who
you truly are.
When I was in the hospital after my surgery, I had a f*ck you attitude.
I felt like it didn't matter what others thought. If I was only going to be
here a limited time, I was going to just say what I felt.
Somewhere in there I knew it might be a good idea to moderate myself
some...not a good idea to alienate those around me. At the same time,
there is something to be said for being able to say what is on one's mind.
There is something to be said for good, and responsible, communications
with others. There is something to be said for respect of all parties within
anything that is being communicated.
Speaking my mind, without concern for another, is not exactly going to
be helpful. But speaking my mind with an awareness of another's experience
of what I am saying can empower both of us.
It seems to me that people respect when someone says what they really
feel and mean, as long as it is communicated in a way that is non-combative
or threatening to them. Even though that is the case, though, it seems to
be remarkably difficult for us to do that. Some people, it seems, also take
offense when there is none given.
Not only do we have to speak in a way that is responsible, but we have
to also listen that way. We have to realize that the world is not always as
we paint it to be.
I recently was reading about the Rashomon plot device. It is when the
story being told is retold from several different and distinct perspectives
of the characters involved. I think we think that just because we are all
human we all should be of a similar mind and experience. Sometimes
it is more obvious than others that we are not. Sometimes there is more
conflict as a result of the differences.
The more that we can navigate our differences with respect, the more
able we are to be ourselves because, in part, is safe to be who we are.
We become who others expect or want us to be to find the illusion of
safety, to find the illusion of fitting in. The thing is, though, I suspect
that there are many people just like us who are wearing a mask just
to fit in which means that a lot of what is experienced is an illusion
built on a false foundation, except for those who created it in the first
place.
I have thought about this a lot.
Can you tell?
As I try to figure out what comes next, I am acutely aware of the things
that I feel do us a disservice. I am acutely aware of the manipulations
and distortions and contortions of the world we live in and, as a result,
the distortions and contortions of who we are as "self."
I have often worked with people in regard to being themselves, and
the power that it gives them. I have worked with them, even as I have
worked on it for myself.
With all that has happened in the last few months, it is clearer to me than
ever that there is no time like the present for me to be who I am. No time
like the present to claim my quirkiness. No time like the present to be the
person I came to be. There is no time like the present because, despite
the illusion to the contrary, the present is all I really have. And since
it is all I really have, isn't it worth following my own heart instead of
allowing another's rules dictate how I should be?
It occurs to me that perhaps the
"need" for rules has to do with
others' experience of us -
possibly as
manipulation of others.
Maybe there is no need for
rules for self when
we live directly from
the messages of our heart.
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