Amber Bird | Blog

“Normal” is such a loaded word. And, before I type up the conclusion-like thoughts I’ve been having about “normal” recently, I’ll first confess that I’ve had my own moments of both pursuing and rejecting “normal” based solely on the fact that it was normal. So I’m talking to you, but I’m also talking to myself. And, just in case you aren’t interested in reading all these words (none of which are likely funny because, wow, this appears to be a very serious topic to both normal and abnormal people and my thoughts have been formed over the whole of my life…and I’m not sure any of the ways I have a laugh over this topic will fit into this entry), I’ll state my bottom line at the top (as well as the bottom).

“Normal” is not the problem. The thoughtless glorification or vilification of “normal” is the problem. The broad application of judgments to “normal,” based only on the fact something is or is not normal, is the problem.

The argument some of you are going to make, because it’s the first I would have made in the past and the first a friend made the most recent time the topic arose, is that there’s no such thing as normal. To you, to past me, and to my friend, I must say that I strongly disagree. Forgive me as I start out really basically. I’m not trying to insult any of our intelligences. Rather, I’m reaching back to my experience in getting my degree in Philosophy, and I’m going to start by defining my terms. Or, rather, by defining my term.

Here are some definitions (from assorted actual dictionaries, which I hope will make you less inclined to argue about what the word means) of normal:

• conforming to the standard or the common type; usual; not abnormal; regular; natural.
• approximately average in any psychological trait, as intelligence, personality, or emotional adjustment.
• the average or mean.
• the standard or type.
• usual; regular; common; typical.
• conforming to the conventions of one’s group.
• the usual, average, or typical state, degree, form, etc.

Whilst I will readily agree that it is unlikely anyone is normal in every aspect, and whilst I will acknowledge that the connotations of the word aren’t addressed here, I feel like the definitions make my argument. There is such a thing as normal. I particularly like the one that is “conforming to the convention’s of one’s group.” Because even with the ways in which I, for instance, am not normal in the context of society at large, I can attest that I am likely normal in some ways (many ways, in some cases) in the context of the groups of which I am part. Even if the norm of your group is something so small as “we all like this music,” that’s still a “normal.” So, when you like that music, you are, in that way, normal in the context of your group, however abnormal your group may be.

For me, the next logical thing to consider is why some of us do (or did) put forth the “no such thing as normal” fallacy. I’ve heard it put forth and talked about with much support both by those who weren’t, for whatever reason, up for more than a “yeah, man!” response and by those who were ridiculously intelligent and could follow their agreement with all sorts of fancy words and concepts. I’ve seen it championed by those who were abnormal in dramatically obvious ways and those who seemed good candidates for being official representatives of normal. So the next obvious thing, to me, is to talk about why we want to believe “there’s no such thing as normal.” The reasons here are either reasons I’ve had, reasons I’ve been told, or things that would make sense to me. If you see yourself in there, as I’ve already said, I’m certainly in there and not judging you. And if you have another, especially if you can say it in a non-mean way, I’d love to read it in the comments.

Those I’ve known who were, in general terms, normal but still making this claim have, when I pressed them, had one reason. It turns out that even many normal people have ways they don’t feel normal. And some of them even have ways they don’t want to be normal (and sometimes it’s as wee as just wanting to do something funky with their hair). Because there’s so much pressure, as is normal in societies, to conform to the norm, those who seem normal (and, I’m guessing, those who don’t) would rather have the pressure removed. That pressure can make one feel guilty when they don’t conform to some norm or other. I’ve even seen it happen to people in non-conformist/alternative groups when they realise they don’t totally conform to the norms of those groups.

In general, as humans, we want to belong. If we don’t feel like we are normal (in the terms of whichever society we want to belong to, whether that’s the larger society or the small society of just one or two friends we love most), and we know that a lack of normality might get in the way of us feeling like we belong, we might disbelieve the thing that gets in the way of feeling we belong. If I’m sure I don’t fit the larger societal definition of normal enough, it makes me feel better if there’s no such thing as normal. If I’m part of a non-conformist group, disbelieving helps insulate me from the pressures of society at large and also helps me more easily feel the legitimacy of my non-conformist group.

And those times we try to be normal and it seems we fail…Well, denying that there’s such a thing as normal is an easier way to cope with the disappointment or other negative feelings than to just learn to be okay with the ways we aren’t normal. In the immediacy of ugly emotions, it’s a lovely, quick bandage to apply to our wounds.

And, when we apply that bandage enough times, whatever the reason, it just becomes one of our mantras or knee-jerk reactions. We don’t have to think about it. It’s just one of those things we treat as one of our truths. I have treated it as one of my truths, and I thought it was going to free me.

Personal anecdote time. I was in a class once with a woman who pressed me to give her answers to homework just because she asked. (We weren’t friends, we’d only ever had small talk as we waited for class to start, I’d never given her or asked her for answers.) This was one of those cases that felt like cheating, so I refused. It just so happened to be an humanities class, and we just happened to be discussing the Romantics that day. When the instructor asked why the Romantics might have dressed and acted in outlandish or different ways, she glared at me as she rushed to respond that maybe they did it because they were incapable of even pretending to be normal or of fitting in with normal society. My fabulous teacher, who was himself a bit flamboyant, simply said, “Huh.” And then turned and asked what I thought of that. To be honest, I had often felt that I couldn’t fit in, that I couldn’t force myself to be normal. But, in that moment, I realised the ways in which I had managed to make myself fit into the greater societal norms when necessary (I’ve had jobs that required business wear, for instance). I processed the implications of my epiphany later, because I needed to confidently communicate it to all those eyes looking at me (judging me, I assumed). “I think that most people could fit in and appear normal if they exerted enough energy, but perhaps the rewards or results of appearing normal weren’t worth it or just weren’t attractive enough.”

Having made that comment with every hope of making her feel small (I wasn’t always the most graceful and kind of people when I felt attacked), the fact is that I suddenly saw both that I could force myself to fit in and that “normal” has its daily uses and value. It’s normal, for instance, to follow traffic laws, which is handy in terms of me not getting into accidents. And when you go in for a job interview, the fact that there are normal ways of behaving and looking at whatever place you’re interviewing makes it easier for you to figure out what to wear and how to act with the interviewer. Without norms, there would be social chaos to a degree that would make even those who claim to hate all normality cringe. Not just social chaos, but norms in how people work, whilst not often norms of which I’m fond, allow companies to go on. Given that it takes companies to make electricity and computers and the internet function, I’m unable to buy into a complete lack of norms.

And, in some situations, things too far outside the norms are dangerous. (For instance, whilst they might fall into the norms of their group, serial killers fall outside of at least some set of psychological norms.) And things falling outside certain norms can sometimes act as warning signs so that we know when it’s time to get away.

I should also probably acknowledge that, when one is trying to find a way forward in the arts, knowing the norms can help you figure out what path to avoid if you don’t want to get lumped in with everyone else. (And, for me, as long as I’m still being true to my artistic instincts and creating with integrity, I don’t think that’s a bad thing.) So, yes, there is a use to both following and going against norms.

Once you realise that norms have their uses, it might be a step toward letting go of the knee-jerk hatred of “normal” that some of us have (especially those of us who’ve been harassed for not being normal). As I moved away from my own knee-jerk judgments, I found my life opened up. I found less energy wasted.

I was always being, or trying to be, genuinely me. But, like (maybe) everyone, I can’t guarantee I’ve always known exactly what it meant to be genuinely me. I think it takes time to figure out who you are. I think that you evolve and change naturally due to your brain changing and your life experiences and such. I think that there are so many filters, that we can’t fully escape all our filters ever, so that who you genuinely are can be obscured even to you by filters. And I think that the deep inner craving to belong, whether to one person or to a group (whether a specific group or in a general sense), can impact you without you consciously realising it. And the “normal” thing figures into to most people’s pursuits of genuine self and belonging.

I think that a lot of time and energy can be spent evaluating whether or not a thing is normal (or maybe you’re thinking more in terms of hip, trendy, cool), so that you can decide whether or not you’ll do it, feel it, wear it, want it. This goes both for those who are trying to conform to some set of norms and to those trying to avoid a set of norms. If you can figure out where that’s really necessary (for instance, to keep a job you really want or need), and let go of it other places, I think that’s the healthier path.

Another personal anecdote. After seeing photos of me at a gig, one of my sisters hesitantly said, “I don’t want you to get upset, but you look really hip in those pictures. In a good way. I don’t want to offend you…” She was lucky, because this conversation happened after I’d stopped avoiding all things normal just because they were normal. By that time, I’d decided that my actual criteria for clothing and entertainment and food and most other things were, “Do I like it? Does it suit me?” And this means that there are normal things in my wardrobe and in my music collection. But I’ve not yet been accused of being normal. In fact, whilst there are still some groups of which I’m part in which I’m quite abnormal, I don’t hear much about my normality or lack thereof. Maybe I was just hyper-sensitive to it before, or maybe I acted in a defensive way back when I was both avoiding normality and constantly feeling I was under attack for that, so maybe nothing has changed or maybe it’s because I finally live somewhere less judgmental…But these days, when people talk about me, to my face or where they don’t think I’ll hear, my genuineness seems to be one of my defining characteristics. Given that, when I was opposed to the greater societal concepts of normality, it was because I just wanted to be myself, that seems like mission accomplished.

(I won’t say much about this, but I definitely see that many of us who didn’t want to be normal were, by trying not to be normal, letting the norm determine our choices. Again, no judgment. I did it as part of trying to be my true self and not let society tell me who to be…In a discussion of “normal” and us not-normal kids, I feel like this needs to be noted.)

As I’ve changed my approach, I have at least tried or given a chance to more that is normal. And I can tell you that “normal” is everywhere. And some of it is, to my tastes and ethics and such, not good. And some of it is quite good. And some of it is neutral. As with most things (and groups and people) in this world, it’s not so straight-forward, not so black and white, as might be comfortable and easy for most people.

I’ve also been able to look at those around me who are or appear to be much more normal with, I think, a clearer eye. I’ve been able to see that, in fact, there are people who truly do enjoy and fit mainly normal-seeming lives and ways of living and looking. And to see that everyone has some little quirk or other, at the least, that isn’t normal and that they don’t hate. Even if they just secretly love it. I’ve seen the relief in anti-normal friends’ eyes when I don’t take the piss over some normal thing they confess to liking (or, even better, when I like it as well). Or seen them be clearly relieved when, in the midst of some kind of dramatic reaction to pain (like a breakup), I can assure them that their response is quite normal. Just as I’ve had more than one normal person who seemed to see me as a safe confessional, who confided in me (sometimes cautiously and sometimes giddily) something non-normal about them. And seen plenty of normal people (most, really) who were proud of the things that made them special. (And special, by definition, isn’t normal.) We’re all more mixed than most realise, but our judgments about normality keep most of us hiding facets.

Now that I’ve written The Longest Blog Ever, and not been at all funny, here’s my thesis again: “Normal” is not the problem. The thoughtless glorification or vilification of “normal” is the problem. The broad application of judgments to “normal,” based only on the fact something is or is not normal, is the problem.

Also, here’s a picture of me and the cat. Bet now you feel like this read (or the scrolling down past all the reading) was worth it. Ha!

Now, go out and be you, whatever norms that might or might not fit.

xxx

I’m going to be kind of ambiguous here, but those who might care will know the context of what I’m talking about. And, as this has been on my mind all week, I think it best I just say it “out loud” for those who might care 😉

And only because those who might care haven’t been thinking of it in terms of trousers: I’m talking about pants, Americans. But I’m going to call them trousers. Because words like “pants” and “fanny” mean other things to the rest the English-speaking world. And, for what it’s worth, whether or not I wear pants isn’t something that would normally be visible to other people in that context. Ha! That clarified:

I wear trousers when I want to wear trousers, only considering whether or not the style of trouser I’m wearing (or skirt, for that matter) is formal/informal enough for the situation. I don’t love when a decision as wee as that becomes complicated…

Why I have considered trousers for this Sunday:

• Because it is chilly outside (and inside, sadly) right now, which means trousers would be lovely in a warmer sort of way.
• Because I will be teaching children, and last time I did that there were no adult-sized chairs. This is a thing more easily dealt with in trousers.
• Because I have only this week realised that it is a big deal that I live somewhere where I can wear those trousers and not have any issue made of it, and it seems like a nice solidarity thing to do for those who, due to non-doctrinal cultural (pop cultural, as my dad and I might say…folk cultural as those with degrees in such things might say) reasons, don’t feel they can do that.
• Along the same lines, because it would be a celebration of my ability to do that (both due to where I am and due to my own nature).
• Because, as some people have noted, their nicest clothes actually are nice trousers. Some of my trousers are at least in the top niceness tier…(Note that I wouldn’t wear my “Blur trousers” because I am well aware that I always feel a sense of silly cheekiness as I sit in meetings with those on and think about how no one there knows that I am actually Alex from Blur undercover…haha!)

Transitional anecdote: I once had a friend who, surprisingly, said he’d like to come along on Sunday. (To be a bit confident in my own awesomeness, it probably had to do with the fact that I was speaking and I am rather good at that.) As I always do in such situations (well, I didn’t once, but that was since I was here and so it didn’t matter that the pretty girl showed up in jeans and a t-shirt), I just noted that most the men would probably be wearing nice slacks and button-up shirts…probably ties as well. He was shocked. Based on what he’d seen me wear out the door on Sundays (almost always skirts and dresses, but definitely in my own style), he assumed it was a more casual affair.

Why I have considered a skirt for this Sunday:

• Because I don’t see my trousers as a political statement and don’t necessarily want them to be taken as such.
• Because I don’t want to disrupt someone’s desire for a fulfilling spiritual experience by joining in with those making a statement.
• Along the same lines, because I don’t feel like this is an appropriate venue for political statements. I’m not allowed to be upset at the veiled political statements others slip into their comments or talks and then think it’s okay for me to do the same. (If, however, you’d like to wear trousers for some other reason, go for it! Do it any Sunday! If you’re feeling a bit shy about it, ask me to wear them as well that week like some kind of cultural training wheels and I probably will.)
• Because, as noted, my personal sense of style might already be seen as too off-culture for some. Maybe, in my own way, I’m already accidentally making a statement every time I walk in those doors.
• Because it seems like those who are trying to make statements with trousers aren’t all making the same statement(s), and I don’t care to be seen as saying something that I’m not.

There are already at least a couple women who wear trousers most the time…Maybe all the time, but I really don’t consider it a big enough deal to pay attention to (unless the outfit overall is really killer and I’m trying to figure out what elements of it I want to incorporate into my own style). In fact, there are people there who don’t seem to be dressed any more formally than I’d dress on a “sit around the flat in jeans and a t-shirt to play video games all day” sort of day.

There’s every possibility I’ll wear trousers with a dress or skirt. I’m wont to do that as well, you know. Hopefully, as I usually do when dressing, I’ll just look at my clothes and be in the mood for one thing or another and go with it. Because, honestly, after having spent much of my life with there being some issue or other with my appearance, I really do enjoy that (barring days like this Sunday) I just get up and get dressed and don’t think much about what anyone but me will think of what I’m wearing and/or whether it’s going to be comfortable for the day’s activities.

If you choose to wear trousers, I hope you’ll do so in an appropriate spirit. If you choose not to wear trousers, I hope that you won’t bring in a bad spirit by being nasty/judgemental about it. Either way, I hope you feel accepted, I hope you feel truly good about yourself (really!), and I hope that you have a fulfilling Sunday. Remember that, whatever others might do, having a spiritual experience is greatly up to us. (I can find a quote from a GA given in a recent conference for that if you don’t believe me.)

Now, to wrap up my night. I’ve still got band business and bills to sort. And, oh my stars, I would probably enjoy the conversation more if it were about pants, not trousers. Ahahaha!

xxx

Earlier in the week, as I was pondering some things in my life, the Universe chimed in via my web browser.

There were two tabs open in my browser, side by side, and their subject matters appeared to be having an argument. I’ve recreated it for you in the picture that follows. I’d read the text in the graphic, and then look up to the other tab (which was for an essay titled “But will it be worth it when you get there?“)

These tabs were both open for most the day, and I kept seeming to rediscover them as I came back to my desk or back to my browser between other tasks.

What makes it even more tangled a question is that I’m not just waiting on the topics in question. As much as possible, I’m working for the things I want. I’m putting time, money, effort, heart, soul, blood/sweat/tears, and all that into these things.

So, really, the question is even more important. Because I’m giving more than just waiting, so what I find when I get “there” is going to have to be even more. And, if I never get to the “there” I’m pursuing so that the “was it worth it” question is a deathbed sort of thing…At that point, do I say, “It wasn’t worth it,” or will I be more inclined to say, “At least I gave it my all so that I can’t wonder ‘what if?’ on that one.”? (Wow, the punctuation at the end strained even my editorial brain…And I’m still not sure I got it right…) The latter possibility, along with the fact that it’s likely less effort would lead to even lesser results, means that the middle path doesn’t seem like the right answer just now.

As you can guess, my pondering continues. I can’t actually predict where my efforts will lead or what I’ll think on my deathbed. I can’t even know what I’ll think tomorrow when it comes to some things…Heh. Usually, I’d just advise myself (or someone in the same situation) to follow my heart. I really believe in using intuition as a compass. But my compass seems broken on this at the moment. At most, I’m struck by the advice in the essay to find joy along the way. I’m paraphrasing, but it basically says that. And, in particular, I feel like I need to find good feelings specifically attached to the topics in question. More good feelings, fewer bad feelings. And, hopefully, somewhere in there, my compass starts to work.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the topic or your anecdotes where you were in situations that might have warranted this question. And, of course, those that pertain to creative endeavours get bonus points. (Don’t worry, people with whom I’m working, I’m not pondering ending any of our projects. If I were, I wouldn’t have written new things for each project in the days since the browser tabs entered the conversation. Heh.)

Hope that your life is full of efforts that will feel entirely worth it when you get to wherever “there” is!

xxx

ps I suspect that one thing that will feed into my decisions is having a clear grasp of what matters, what my priorities are. That’s important. So, so important. Loads of things going on have pointed me toward that truth the last couple weeks. Including the tough choice that Amanda Palmer made to cancel her tour so she could stay home with her best friend who’s got cancer. In my world, that’s the right choice, and surely one aided by understanding that there are some things more important than music and career. But, before this postscript turns into a blog of its own, my priority is sleep! Sweet dreams, lovelies.

In the discussion of Nature vs Nurture (are humans shaped by the nature they’re born with or the nurture of what happens in their lives?), I’ve always figured it was a mix of both things. The analogy I always use is that each of us is like a gem stone. Our nature is that chunk of stone. Our nurture is the chisel that determines our cut or the tweezers that put us in a setting. In good news, there are a couple of key ways we aren’t like those gems.

First, we’re conscious (even if some of us sometimes feel dumb as rocks…haha). This means that we are not just passive victims to the chisel and tweezers. We can wield those tools ourselves; we can choose how we’re cut and where we’re placed to some degree. Sometimes to huge degrees. Don’t like what you’ve become due to the circumstances of your life or where that’s led you? You can do something about it. And that’s not just because you’re conscious…

Second, we can regenerate bits that got chiselled off. When we don’t like our cut and want to change it, we don’t just have to keep whittling ourselves down to nothing and to tiny gems that can barely be seen. Life beat you down and you feel like you lost some trait you like? Chances are good you can act to get it back, to change which facets of yourself are shining out there.

Why is this on my mind right now? Not just because, as some of you have noticed, I’m big on taking control of and responsibility for your own choices and life and never just letting yourself be a victim. Big on always working to be your best self, even though we’re all going to fail at that sometimes.

Nope. I’m thinking about this right this moment cos I was asked an interesting question in email. The context was the ways in which our natures and how we’ve been nurtured can make it hard for us to rise to opportunities we’re given or to do some good that we’re asked to do. The question asked was this:

“Do you ever feel trapped in your own personality?”

In context, I find it a fascinating question. Are there ever times I don’t feel like I can re-cut my facets to do all I want to do? But pulling it out of context, there are more questions, including another way to understand this question. So, here’s a list of questions I’m pondering that came out of this…I’m not going to give you my full answers (or even answer all of them) because I feel like the answers would be long and maybe a bit too inside my privacy zone. But I think the direction my brain goes says something about me. And it gives you a little something for your own pondering…I don’t know about you, but I love good, meaty questions to ponder!

Do you ever feel trapped in your own personality?

Are there ever times you don’t feel like you can re-cut your facets to do all you want to do? (This doesn’t include the ways that money or time or opportunities limit you. One thing I will say here is that, when I feel anything like this might be holding me back, I try to evaluate what it is that makes me think I can’t do something. Is it really some bit of character I lack or can I take actions that, whilst difficult and outside my comfort zone, will let me do the thing? A lot of times, the answer to “I’m not the kind of person who does/says Thing,” is as simple as doing or saying Thing. Both good and bad. And when I just do the Good Thing, even if it doesn’t feel comfortable or it scares me or something, I get to live with the pleasure of knowing I did/tried to do it. Just like I’ve had to live with shame the times I just did the Bad Thing even if I wasn’t that kind of person…And then I try not to do that again. There are plenty of actions that aren’t limited by my personality, only by whether I allow myself to be held back the discomfort my personality causes me to feel about such actions. That cuts down on the time I feel trapped by my personality in this kind of context.)

Are there ever times that the personality you’ve built as your public face (or even as something to hold to in private because that can be easier than true self sharing and/or assessment) holds you back or makes you feel trapped…as if it’s making the choices for you or as if you’ll lose friends, family, supporters, respect, etc if you change it or set it aside? (Fortunately, I haven’t really done this since I was a teenager…)

Do you ever feel trapped by the person you are trying to be (even if that person is a positive thing)?

Do you ever feel trapped by who others expect you to be?

Do you ever feel trapped by who others think you are? (This can include both times they’re just plain wrong about who they decided to believe you are and the times that they think you’re still someone that you used to be but no longer are. It seems like the latter is more likely to happen the longer you know someone.)

Are you ever trapped by who you incorrectly think others are or by not being willing to see if you’re incorrect in who you think they are?

Do you ever feel trapped by who it is you think you’re supposed to be?

Do you ever feel trapped by the demeanour you think you’re supposed to have?

Do you ever feel trapped because your personality is at odds with what’s considered normal?

Do you ever feel trapped because one of the facets of your personality is something strong that inclines you toward making choices or taking actions that are harmful to you and/or those around you? (To be clear, if this sort of thing is going on, I never believe it’s okay just to stop fighting it and just accept it. I believe in working to make sure the other, better facets are the ones in charge. I believe in working to be conscious of the unwanted facets and resisting them. We all have flaws, demons, struggles. And fighting against them is, in itself, revealing a better facet of ourselves.)

As I ponder and journal and let this batch of questions squirm around in my brain, I’m sure more questions will occur to me. Cos this brain never spools down…But I reckon this is enough for most people who want to get all ponder-y. So, happy pondering! And best of luck staying out of the traps and being a pretty, shiny gem stone.

xxx