Within the Lines

San Francisco

I have a cousin almost exactly 1 year older than myself.  She's the "city mouse"; I'm the "country  mouse".  She grew up mainly in San Francisco, while I was raised in the middle of Minnesota, 30 miles from the nearest town.  During a visit with our northern California relatives when I was a young teen, we went sightseeing in San Francisco.  I remember loving all the new and strange sights and sounds and smells, but being scandalized by some of the people I saw.  One in particular made a wild impression.  As a young, naive, Midwestern, recently-removed-from-public-school teen, I reacted by trying to get a reaction from my San Francisco-dwelling cousin.  I don't remember now what I did, whether a comment or screwy face or what, but I do remember her reaction.  She was scandalized by me.  That moment crystallized in my mind as I realized how silly and holier-than-thou such casual condemnation, based on mere differences, was.  I've never forgotten it.

I think of that now as I contemplate bravery.  Brave living.  Living as "you", regardless of opinion.  I've spent my life extraordinarily sensitive to censure.  My family was highly "opinionated" (to avoid any other more negative words), not so much within as without.  Fear tends to make you agressive in analysis and catagorization.  And tho it wasn't directed at me, it was unpleasant enough to make me want to avoid being it's target at all costs.  Then, too, I attended a "quaint" small-town public school, grades K-12 in one building, 30 kids to a class, where everyone knew everyone, and all was run on the public-school version of the caste system.  There were the popular kids, the stinky kids, the teased-unmercifully kids, the poor kids (who didn't wear Nike shoes or Lee jeans), the semi-despised-but-occasionally-useful smart kids, and the in-the-middle kids.  I aimed for in-the-middle.  Tho I qualified for the smart group (being one of the top two in my class), I denied it vociferously, becoming very good at acting mightily surprised at my good grades, in order to avoid the attention it brought.  Actually that was my main goal throughout my growing up years -- AVOID ATTENTION.  Invisible=safe.

The problem as I'm discovering is that chameleon-ness is exhausting, and fraught with danger.  Every look I adopt, every voice I imitate, every talent I hide, etc, to please one group is in direct opposition to another.  On top of that, I find myself growing tired of hiding me.  All my favorite friends are the ones that are loud and crazy and don't blend well.  I love the variety God made in people, particularly when it's obvious and unstoppable.  I'm smiling even as I think of them.  They don't see themselves as heroes; far from it, probably.  But I think they're wonderful and amazing and brave.  They're just living, failing at times, succeeding at others, but living.  Really living just as God made them, unfazed by the censure of others.  Wow!

So what will I do to launch myself out there?    I don't need spiked hair.  I don't need to live in San Francisco.  But I do need to live.  I can't not anymore.

Hey, you're Blogging! :)

{ 11:54, Sunday, December 2, 2007 } { Posted by pringlemom }

I love getting to have a glimpse into your brain when you take a minute and write! I love you!