So, what if there is no normal? What if I don’t know what is going on or what anything is supposed to look like? What if all there is, is feeling my way through, moment to moment? What if I lived more from my heart, moving at my own pace, and not being enchanted by my shit spraying mind fan?
The truth is this: There is no normal. It doesn’t exist. Unexpected shit exists. Complicated exists. Messy exists. We’re part of a messy species. Messy alone. Messy in our lives. Messy in our relationships. We stumble along. On our individual paths. Paved with uncertainty and surprises. We experience moments of fear, dread, anger, loss and tears. And we experience moments of grace, compassion, joy, connectedness and laughter.
My new “NORMAL” seems to be a jumbled-up-bumbling-around-finding ground-losing ground-finding my way again kind of dance. I no longer look for THE ONE normal path. Paved with my good intentions and wishes. Or my blood, sweat, and tears. Where I frantically and neatly sanitize all the messiness that comes with being here and being present.