There is another word that has screwed up more people than being perfect, and that is being normal.
What is normal?
Can you spot a normal person in a lineup?
Inside of us isn’t there a specifically designed normal for us, one that is specially made by the path that we walked?
Normal in the dictionary says to conform to the standard.
What is the standard?
Who designed the standard in each situation and can the standards change?
I had to look up standard; it says the level of quality.
Quality of what?
How can we know the best quality and isn’t our best the best quality?
Do we have to measure ourselves against others standards?
So normal is conforming to standards of quality.
But who are the quality makers?
Who decides whether I reached the level called normal?
To me, this seems like perfect recipe for failing to always be looking outward to the judges of quality for the nod of approval, instead of creating a normal for you.
It is normal for me to run, from groups that seem to enjoy brainwashing conformity, as a newly freed mind!
It is normal for me to embrace all things free after being held captive by a mental mind for 40 years.
Yet is this normal?
Perhaps I did overshoot the mark and I have landed in a land beyond normal.
Some feel ‘normal’ in abusive situations for that is all they ever have known, to them that’s normal’.
That is the only quality or standard they know.
Maybe it is only when you no longer like that standard or that quality that you strive for a higher level, a new normal for you.
This new normal for you is personal, societies standards, nor your friends or parents don’t measure it, it is an inside job.
Inside of you, something tells you that you are ready for a new normal.
You no longer are comfortable doing that which you have done, and want to raise the standard by which you live.
You then move to a new normal for you.
What is normal is conforming to standards you now have.
I feel we re-set our standards time and time again, the more we learn the more re-setting we do.
I had previously set standards by my parents, until I saw their standards, and then I began creating my own standards.
What was normal for me for 46 years was their standard, not mine.
Now I have a new normal and in this new normal, I reset my standards all the time, they seem to be fluid and life changing.
There is no mark that I will hit and say “Bingo” I am now stuck at this normal.
My life and me are normally changing, we are not stuck unchanging like a plastic flower, we are like a real live growing me.
I love that I am not done growing, for I think that is dead.
I am a normal growing me.
