Why do weird things make us so uncomfortable? Why do we gravitate to “normal” and “typical” and what society deems as beautiful and desirable?
Because it’s the animal in us, pushing toward survival and domination. To side with abnormal or atypical would go against those instincts.
Let that lie for a minute. I’ll come back.
Each choice we make is either driven by love, or it’s driven by fear. Love, at its purest form, feels extremely uncomfortable when it’s lived out in action. If it’s comfortable, it’s probably not love. Comfortable silence, euphoric intimacy, those are all the rewards that bloom from what we’ve struggled to plant, our wounds from weeding thorns, our bites from predators. That is love, and love is a verb. Comfort is a feeling.
Fear paralyzes us into non-action. Our backs don’t ache from planting seeds, our nail beds don’t get dirty, our skin doesn’t bleed, and the flowers don’t grow and do not bloom.
I’m coming back to our animal instincts now when I say that to love is to go against our drive toward survival and domination. For to survive and dominate means to be forever alone.
It’s not easy, but I have learned to push hard against my fear-driven instincts to curve toward normal and rather, when confronted with something weird, I open my mind and heart to it and let it plant what it needs to plant. If it’s love, it will grow.
Blue hair, crooked teeth, wheelchair, biggie boobs, too much lipstick, should she be ordering that? let’s order that too, everybody goes poo, I don’t touch doorknobs, he hugs too long, I wonder if he’s gay, I’ve got secrets too, she’s paying with cash, am I allowed to think he’s hot? I think he likes the barista, all this doesn’t even matter because we all live on a planet, A PLANET. We live on a little planet that spins around the sun. Blue hair. He likes the barista.
None of us really want to end up alone.