Postcard From The Bermuda Triangle

Well, I try my best
To be just like I am,
But everybody wants you
To be just like them.

-Bob Dylan

I've gone through most of my life thinking that there's something profoundly strange about me. 

As a little kid, I was obsessed with drawing pictures and writing stories about imaginary characters. I could tell that most adults thought that this was a little weird and they wished I'd stop. I didn't. I couldn't.

As I grew up, I felt out of place in all the usual pubescent ways and then some, but I was beginning to think that these other people who emphasized "normality" so strongly in word and deed weren't so hot themselves. They really bored me.

I'm not sure when I gave up and just decided to be myself. This is a deeper and more difficult thing than it appears, because there's a lot to sort through, so much societal programming to examine and then to either discard or keep. It's like constantly preparing for a yard sale -- only the twist is that hardly anyone will recognize you by the end of the day. And you don't earn any money either.

So, my little boat sails further and further out to sea, with less and less baggage aboard. I've got radio contact, but it gets lonely out here. Is it possible to go crazy like this? Probably.

I recently bought some pajama pants at JC Penney. I don't know what they are made of but it is the most comfortable fabric I've ever felt in my life. (I don't get out much.) So then I start to think: why is all clothing not made out of fabric like this? Since it isn't, why don't I just wear these voluminous PJ pants all the time? It would be the most honest thing to do. These are the pants I like best and they are the most comfortable.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), the land where people don't wear pajamas outside the house is still visible on my horizon, getting smaller and smaller as I drift away. I shade the sun from my eyes and look back. Should I? Who will notice? Who will care?

Perhaps some people would see the sense in this PJ thing and join in. And society is going this way anyway -- with the exception of thongs, clothes have been gradually getting more comfortable ever since the days of whalebone corsets. Pajamas are inevitable. Forget tinfoil spacesuits -- PJs are the real wave of the future, kid.

But, see -- you've caught me. I'm weird but I still want company. You see the dilemma? It's tough. So, I'm wearing regular pants today.

Here's the real prob: once you've begun a spiritual life, your decisions are less and less your own. I may be able to sacrifice PJs-in-public in return for a more satisfying business and social life, but a deeper force is pulling me out anyway, stronger than any ocean current, and there's no telling where it will take me. Clothes are really the least of my concerns (which is what led to my whole brilliant PJ idea in the first place).

Real devotion to spirituality is almost guaranteed to make you weird. It has also made me profoundly happy and fulfilled, and improved all my relationships a hundred times over. But I'm a bit afraid to reproduce now. I'm sure the other mothers at my kid's playgroup are not going to want to sit around and discuss the Qabalah with me.

But I have an obligation to those women, and to everyone else I meet. Unlike a dear friend of mine, I'm not a cloistered nun, and even though my little boat often sails into lonely waters, I know that part of my path is to stay connected to the world. That, I suppose, is where it really gets interesting.

Comments

[gamefiend]

Great article. I've noticed that the basic categories we all split into are the influences and the influenced. Each person is an influence for certain things, and influenced by others. The basic determinant is "do I do what I want, or do I do what others want or seem to expect?"

The dynamic can also change. I remember in high school, my friends and I used to always be the subject of mass ridicule by the cool crowd. Then "grunge" hit. Everything stunk of Teen Spirit, and people were asking my buddy Asa about his Boredoms T-Shirt.

It can all switch very quickly. Or it can take an absurdly long time. The main question is, can you wait it out?

[Anna]

Well, I'm in my pajama pants right now. Does that tell you anything? ;)

[Peter Orvetti]

Don't be too sure about the playgroup thing -- I've met some of the best weird folks I've ever encountered through contemporary urban parenting.

[Kathleen Moriarty]

You could always move to my neighborhood, Anna, where it is not uncommon to see college students (female AND male) schlepping around in mismatched pajamas, slippers and/or Crocs. I also regularly see flip flops on the feet of these folks.... even in snow, rain and freezing temps. Now that can't be comfortable, can it? I like my sandals in the summer. But in the middle of January? :-)

[Anya Weber]

Anna, I hear what you're saying about the tradeoffs between following your inner guidance and the guidance of the larger culture. But I disagree with this phrase: "once you've begun a spiritual life, your decisions are less and less your own."

I think everything you say in this essay shows that, once you've begun a spiritual life, your decisions are MORE AND MORE your own. That's what makes them intimidating, scary, and liberating.

Popular culture keeps us anesthetized so that we don't need to make scary choices. When you start thinking for yourself, especially about spiritual or challenging stuff, that changes. Then you're really making your PJs vs non-PJs choice for yourself, not because of how you've been programmed.

BTW, I think the trend toward wearing flip-flops, pajama bottoms, etc around town is uncool. There should be a separation between how we are at home and how we present ourselves in the world. It's respectful to other people, and to ourselves, not to automatically let them see us in an unguarded, casual state. That state should be reserved for friends, lovers, and house pets.
: )

Thanks for the thought-provoking essay!