What happens when “weird” becomes normal and “normal” becomes weird?
I was the weird kid in elementary school whose lunch bag had almond butter and honey “sandwiches” on rice cakes instead of bread, brown rice and vegetables instead of pizza, and seaweed (nori) cut into fun shapes instead of candy. I took my own tofu ice cream to birthday parties and drank water instead of soda. My Easter chocolates were made of carob and when other kids were watching music videos on MTV, I was more likely to be found looking for fairies in the park. My childhood was wonderful, but it was not typical by any stretch of the imagination.
When I started at a new school in 6th Grade, I really wanted to be like the other kids, who primarily came from wealthy and traditional families. I spent many years trying to be “normal” and as a result lost a lot of the innocence that allowed me to see fairies and even recount details of a past life as French royalty. I began shopping at the Gap and matching my t-shirts to my socks. I wore polo shirts and penny loafers and begged my parents to make rules and give me a curfew.
Most teenagers are embarrassed by their parents at some point; however, I had real reasons to be, or so I thought. My mom taught classes on sensuality and traveled the world doing past life regressions to hundreds of people at a time. She wasn’t your typical mom who baked cookies and drove the soccer carpool for sure, though she often did those things. Confessing that my family was weird and owning our differences seemed like a surefire route to non-acceptance at the exclusive private school I attended between 6th and 12th grade, so I became like everyone else and even began to question whether I really had seen fairies and whether reincarnation could really be possible.
|I feel like this sprout growing into a new version of myself|
There’s something liberating about not only not denying your roots, but also welcoming them into your life. The amazing thing is that the more I’ve relinquished my need to be normal, the more the positive response has been from others. The truth is…no one is normal. We’re all weird in our own ways. Most people feel awkward or different at times in their life. However, the more you can be truly genuine and share from the heart, the more people will gravitate to you. This is what I’m learning.
Although I’m still unlikely to announce to my neighbors the myriad ways that I’m “weird,” I accept who I am and where I’ve come from, and as a result, I’m opening the doorway into the magic that life has in store for me.
In what ways are you weird? Do you own this? Even if you don’t, consider finding small ways to share your authentic self with others. It might be hard at first, and some people might not agree with you but in the end, you may discover a miraculous feeling of freedom and joy floods your life. Here’s to welcoming weird!
Hijiki with Carrots
A dish for welcoming your true self
One of the advantages of having grown up “weird” was that I was introduced to many different foods as a child, all of which I adored. I learned a deep appreciation for health foods and cuisines from distant lands. Taking nori to school was certainly not hip in the early 1980s like it is now.
I love all forms of seaweed. Hijiki is one of my favorites, and it’s especially delicious with carrots and this soy ginger sauce. Eat alone or serve with steamed rice and grilled fish. This is also a great dish for Halloween to put a healthy spin on the typical orange and black cookies and candies.
2 oz. dried hijiki seaweed*, soaked for 30 minutes
4-5 carrots, peeled and shredded
1 tsp. finely grated ginger
3 Tbsp. sesame seeds
4 tsp. toasted sesame oil
¼ cup tamari
3 Tbsp. rice vinegar
3 Tbsp. mirin**
1 Tbsp. agave
1 tsp. vegetable oil
*Available in Asian markets and from online retailers
**Japanese cooking wine, available in well-stocked supermarkets, natural foods stores, and Asian markets.
In a large bowl, soak the hijiki for 30 minutes, or until soft. Drain and rinse. Peel and shred the carrots. Combine the ingredients for the sauce in a small bowl. Thinly coat the bottom of a large skillet with the vegetable oil and turn to medium-high. When the oil is warm, add the carrots, hijiki, and sauce. Sauté until the carrots are slightly soft and the hijiki is warm. Enjoy!
SO perfect that I should read your blog today, dear Meadow. The clouds here today looked much like the ones in your opening photo!ReplyDelete
I wonder if everyone feels like they're weird and many just don't admit it?! I think there are so many facets to all of us and yet at the same time there's also a simpleness to us--talk about a dichotomy!
And I'm sure that if you spoke with Asian kids, they would tell you that nori wasn't considered weird but normal! So interesting that weirdness can also be based on locale, ethnicity, etc.
But I think we use differentness sometimes as a defense rather to see that we are all in fact more similar than not.
You bring up interesting thoughts on which to ponder!
I'm proud of you. First, for accepting "the weird" and second, for saying it out loud and being proud. You've had an extraordinary life in that you've lived in such different words where you chatted with fairies and other fine beings and you hung out at the mall with your friends and did the same things your peers did. You've learned more about life, yourself and the people in your life who love you, by having this experiences. There is nothing wrong with each type of life, but by allowing yourself to embrace the many different aspects of yourself is to truly live. LIVE. So many people walk through this life with their heads down and completely unconscious, but you've lifted yours and you've opened your arms to embrace a light filled life that has so many blessing because your blessings are your teachers and your teachings.
I'm glad you're weird. I am too. I like adventures and pushing past things that I have a hesitancy or am fearful about. That's why I have walked on fire, went skydiving, gone on solo retreats, and submerged myself into a self-deprivation tank. I've opened myself up to denying my ego the running of my life. I want my heart and my souls destination to do that, not the fearful little voice of my ego who tries to scare and deny me. Most of the people I know think I'm a little nutty for doing the things I do, but I could care less. It has made me a better, more fully realized soul and I'm weirdly ecstatic about it.
The more you own your inner oddball, the more other people open up about theirs. I learned early on that virtually everyone has secrets and feels like an imposter to some extent. Sometimes the isolating factor is a fascination with the occult or with the neighbor kid's weenie, sometimes it's a drug-addicted mom or a "special uncle" ... but in my "Father Knows Best" normal 1950s neighborhood, absolutely no one was without his or her quirks and idiosyncracies ....ReplyDelete