Fashionista to Passionista

One of the things that fascinates me the most about humankind is how different we all are. I love that while we are all fashioned out of the same elements, we are each put together just differently enough to create billions of individual humans with different perspectives, different passions, different interests, different personalities. What a fabulous kaleidoscope of diversity is humanity. How tedious and boring it would be if we were all the same. The Stepford Wives horrified me, not just because they wore ridiculously brimmed hats (a la Here Come The Brides) while grocery shopping, but because of the stifling sameness. (And speaking of 70’s movies, that sci-fi flick starring Farrah Fawcett also horrified me because a) citizens were “eliminated” at 30 years of age, and b) they all wore the 70’s idea of kicky, futuristic outfits, and they were quite hideous.)

What I think is wonderful about humanity is that you don’t give a rat’s ass about what matters to me, and right back atcha. Isn’t that wonderful!? I think it’s fabulous! It means that we have myriad charity groups so that those of us passionate about saving the whales can participate and contribute, as can those of us who want to improve living conditions for women in Rwanda. Some of us want to study geography, and others of us are obsessed with how things work. Some of us are the life of the party, and some of us like to quietly observe the life of the party.

I admire those people who respect the differences in others. I personally find the differences fascinating and positive. Therefore, when I learn that someone in my community is branching out, taking a chance, making a leap of faith, venturing into the unknown, all in the name of finding their passion or following their bliss or any other cute little phrase you want to label it with, well, I say booyah!! How many of us though, are surrounded by a majority of folks who, upon learning that we want to move a tad outside our carefully constructed comfort zone (complete with caution tape and everything), are very quick to label us crazy, restless, immature, or silly. How many of us are surrounded by people who want to know why we’re just not satisfied with the status quo?

I say to hell with the status quo. Sure, the status quo is safe. It’s predictable. It’s very Stepford Wives. But it’s not living. It’s not experiencing and failing and falling and trying again and starting over and succeeding and loving and laughing and grinning because you’re so damn delighted with yourself. You’re delighted with yourself because you ventured outside the box, and regardless of whether or not you failed or succeeded, you created and lived through an experience. And that, in and of itself, means success in my book. Because it enriches us and expands who we are. It makes us bigger on the inside.

I have read self-help  books which tell you to absolutely not tell anyone when you venture outside the box. They’ll just make you uncomfortable, not offer any support, create obstacles, label you crazy. You’re writing a book? Why? No one will publish it. No one will want to read it. Or, You want to go back to school? What for? You already have a job. You’re lucky to have a job. Why spend the money when you already have a career? What can you do with a Fine Arts degree anyway? I have also read as many books recommending you tell everyone on the planet so you can increase your sphere of influence and that people will rally to your cause when they see how important your new journey is. Regardless of whether and/or whom you decide to tell, the point is that it – whatever IT is – matters to you. And you matter. So what you care about matters, no matter what else.  What you care about has intrinsic value, and needn’t be defended or justified to anyone.

I’m here to tell you that if you followed a gut instinct, heeded an internal spark, investigated an urge, and took it beyond that to actually acting on it, well my friend, you are not crazy. You are amazing. But you are in the minority. Sadly, so many of us have become so firmly entrenched in our day to day lives and responsibilities and to-do lists that any thought of moving beyond that reality doesn’t even occur to us. And when we hear of someone who actually did it, we may offer congratulations, but many of us are secretly thinking “How dare you? You’ve proven that there is life beyond this, and, damn it, that shines a giant spotlight on the lack of deliberate intent in my life. Thanks, dude. On the other hand, maybe you’ll fail, and then I can feel good about myself again.”

Now, that sounds a little negative, and it is never my intention for this blog to be negative. I’m simply trying to point out that while some of us can be truly happy for our brothers and sisters who venture outside their safe little box, at least an equal number of us don’t like to hear about it, because it reminds us that we’re not venturing, we’re not experiencing, we’re not living. We’re simply existing. And misery loves company.

About a year ago, I starting paying attention to the sparks, to the glimmers of inspiration which began to push their way through to my consciousness. In all honesty, I didn’t consciously ask for the awareness. It developed as a result of the clearing of my mind after a loss where I simply wasn’t capable of filling my head with much else. I gained a new respect and love of life. I gained a very clear awareness of my own mortality and of the short span of each of our lives. In short, I realized that, at almost 50, I was running out of time to get my shit together.

And now, a year later, I organize a social group for some amazing women. The experience, and the members, feed my soul, and provide a sisterhood I never had growing up (I had brothers). What a wonderful gift. I have a blog which I contribute to regularly. It allows me to experience the joy of writing – something I lose myself in. You see, even if no one ever reads it, I am enjoying writing it – that’s the point. It’s my passion. If others enjoy it, well that’s a wonderful additional benefit. I have, in the last year,  participated in a Flash Mob, and conducted a speaking engagement (where I received a standing ovation by almost 2000 people). I also took a jewellery-making class and started guitar lessons, both of which didn’t inspire me enough to continue (although I can now repair my own jewellery which is cool). And I bought my dream car, a very aggressively styled Mustang which makes me grin every single time I turn the key. (My ex popped by to check it out and we happened to turn onto my street at the same time. He said he saw my grin before he saw the car.) The point is not the result. The point is the journey. The point is making the effort in the first place, even if people think you’re crazy.  The point is to find those things which keep you up at night and make you grin like an idiot.

You are entitled to live the life you choose. In fact, I believe it is our obligation to bring our particular gifts into the world. I believe that’s why we’re here. And, except for those blessed few who seem to be born knowing what their gifts are, the exquisite agony of trying to figure it all out is what life is really about. Once we learn to embrace that, the world is limitless. And I can tell you, raising children is rewarding, being part of loving relationships is wonderful, but being delighted with yourself, well, that’s a whole new level of joy.