Fuck Normal

I’m so afraid to BE with myself. I need the world’s offerings to stimulate me because I’ve forgotten how to do that for myself. I’m terrified because I don’t know how long this will last. I hear others asking, when will I be able to return to normal?

Yes. Normal. I want normal again.

Normal?

What IS normal? Is normal rushing to and from places wishing I was home, only to be at home wishing I was someplace else? Is normal zoning out and bingeing on Netflix? Is normal staring at a phone and not noticing other people’s faces standing right beside me?

We’ve been social distancing for years!!!! Life has only answered us and given us what we’ve been asking for. A world made up of only virtual connection and now we’re starving. We’ve finally realized that it’s not enough. And still we ask…when can we return to “normal”?

We’re even trying to re-create normal in our homes, our sanctuaries. We’re trying so hard to bring the outside world in with it’s schedules and demands, keeping up with school and with work.

My heart weeps for those who haven’t bought into the wonders of technology or are from a time when people connected with their eyes rather than tips of their finger. What will they do to connect in this virtual cosmic soup? They were already yearning for our love and attention, and learned to survive on the allotted “care” we eked out of our schedules.

Maybe, for me anyway, it’s time for a new normal. Or actually…an old normal. And ancient normal.

Where we howled at the moon and danced and thrust our arms out wide bumping with abandon into the person standing next to us. Where we spent long long hours staring into a fire, interspersed with slow so very slow stories told by our elders to which we listened intently and with deep reverence. An old old normal where we trusted our own goodness and loved one another and felt what arose in us instead of shutting it out with noise and chaos. An old normal where we felt our fear and cried out loudly in pain, and moaned boldly with orgasm, and wept without shame. An old normal where families spent time together in small rooms and it didn’t occur to them to build she-shacks, men-dens, or basement rec rooms. An old normal where we didn’t need a clock to tell us to move on to the next activity. We moved because we were connected to the inner voice that said, “get up”.

The earth is crying out for this old normal so much so that it has shut us away into our virtual prisons. A virtual world we built so carefully and with such pride. And while we scramble to re-create normal, the earth is healing. I wonder if she’ll welcome us back. Maybe – just maybe – if we let go of fucking normal and allow our hearts to crack open with grief and sorrow at how much we’ve been turning away from one another. The utter relentless truth is that we’ve been social, friend, family, and love distancing for years. This is our opportunity to connect. And to atone.

Maybe.

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