I mean in the traditional sense, not the fashionable one. I mean, why is it so hard to understand me? Why do I keep bumping up against expectations, defying them, even when I long to belong?
I smile at a neighbor. They ask if I'm feeling better. NO, I say, irritated now. Why can't I be polite?
A friend suggests that I have as much good as possible, specifically to forgive a very recent deep wound. Oh? Well, even if I was on my way, now I burn with bitterness. Why can't I be like
Thich Nhat Hanh, who was kind even to enemies, or
Martin Luther King Jr., who was forcefully non violent, even when provoked, or
oh, choose any saint or hero. I am not That. Nor am I normative.
Some people are afraid of me, of my emotions, and that causes me to hate myself. I was drawn to theatre, that fictional space where you get permission to live with full intensity. I was drawn to psychology, where I learned that even people who look normal have a remarkable inner life full of stuff I recognize as my own.
I like foam. beer foam. oatmilk barista foam.
I like the drama of a changing stormy sky.
Someone I see nearly every day bids me stay well when she leaves. But I'm not. You too, I seethe.
Am I really so much more bothered by ordinary misunderstandings than most people? or am I just too insistent on voicing my complaints? Last year I started a zen zoom group called Complaint Company, where the instruction is to lean into what bothers you. It's fun and tragic and moving, and pretty popular. But not everyone loves it and at least once someone says I'm gonna break the rules and be grateful, or some such thing.
From Thich Nhat Hanh's famous poem: Please Call Me By My True Names
I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.
He advocates compassion and a loving heart, and he is the arms merchant.
This morning, after our daily meditation at the Zendo, our host commmented on anger, sorrow, something good I can't remember (see, see?), and frustration, and bid us meet All That with strength and wisdom. That I can strive to do.
Am I a freak? No, except in the fashionable sense.
January 26, 2022