The Dancing People

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A while back, I had an interesting conversation with a friend about the weirdos of the world. You know, the weirdos. Every time I hear the word ‘weirdo’ my mental iPod begins to play Creep by Radiohead, so, as you can imagine, the mental picture associated with the word is negative. But, we weren’t just talking about any weirdos, we were talking about my twin sister and I. We were the weirdos. We were the creeps, the outcasts, the circus freaks. We were talking about various activities that we had taken part in that made us weird according to that person. Apparently, doing anything out of your comfort zone makes you weird. I like getting out of my comfort zone. It’s healthy. I recommend that every one gets out of their comfort zone once in a while. Trust me, it’ll do you some good. In context, the word almost sounded like a compliment. And then I thought about it some more. It’s not really a compliment when someone tells you to keep your creative outlook on life at bay for the sake of your children’s future. Yeah. She went there. It’s not really a compliment when someone scoffs at the thought of doing something a little bit well…weird. Doing anything to attract attention to yourself makes you weird. Participating in anything that would give people the impression that I’m weird is a no-no. Public pranks? Heaven forbid! Dancing in the rain? Absolutely not!

NOTE TO SELF: Living out of your comfort zone makes you a weirdo. From now on, hole yourself up in a box for the rest of your life and don’t do anything that could attract any funky attention to you.

Wait…what?

What’s so wrong with being weird? I guess that depends on each person’s definition. Your definition of weird may be someone who wears their clothes backwards or someone who talks to themselves. I’m talking about the type of weird where a person goes after what they believe in. “Those who dance are considered insane by those who cannot hear the music.” The dancing barefoot in the rain kind of weird. That’s what I am, and I don’t think it’s weird at all.

I care way too much about what people think. I’ve always been one of those people who stayed away from anything too outgoing or funky…or weird. Being a part of anything that would draw too much attention to myself makes my head spin. I admired people who had the guts to stand out, but I didn’t consider myself one of them. I liked being part of a crowd, as long as I was in the crowd and not leading it. But then, I decided that it would be a good idea to write and publish a novel. Way to keep my life on the DL, huh? I realized that living in my comfort zone was, well, comfortable, but it wasn’t much fun. What’s the point of living if you don’t feel alive? So, I started doing things to break the walls of my comfort zone. I asked more questions, I approached more people, I began participating in things that would have otherwise given me an anxiety attack. Public gatherings, events, pranks, anything to get myself out of my own head, and skin. Even writing a blog took a bit of the wall down. Having to talk about my book in public, write articles about it or introduce people to it caused the bricks to crumble at a neck breaking speed. I started to experience life more, and I mean really experience it. I found ways to LIVE. That makes me a weirdo? Wanting to grab life by the horns makes me strange, and may embarrass my future generations? Ok, I’ll take it. I rather be weird than boring and bored. I would rather be the dancer and hear the music loud and clear.

Carry on, weird ones!

 

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