We all live on a precipice. It is just a matter of definition.Today my mind is hanging out on that rocky cliff, looking down, wondering if the precipice is really up here, looking down, or (in here), walking upright, my brain limited to the input of my five senses, and a tiny little corner, isolated (but at times powerful), whispering, "there is more, Connie, there is more than the daily civilities of life, the repeat patterns, the selfish tailgater, the banalities of daily living."
We re frame so much in our lives to fit the images projected by various mediums of what is normal.
Normal is banalities. Normal is mediocre. Normal is what people do when they follow-normal is comfortable, acceptable, likable and fluffy.
Humans crave likeness. Humans cringe at different. The toothless, homeless man begging on the street. The wheel chaired young woman with twisted, disfigured legs. Those humans creating conflict by asking hard questions about subjects which have no easy answers. We squirm, we apple pie a la mode the issue and burn the conflicted, questioning, human at the emotional stake, using nice methods of course.
Our own precipice hides in our mind as fears. Fear of losing a job, a loved one, status, money, reputation,-we all own something.
Today, my precipice is in sight. I am hanging on the rock asking myself uncomfortable questions-which have no easy answers-or solutions. I am looking over that rock and wondering if it so easy to re frame one's precipice, or are we, at some point, required to face it?
