Are you completely sound, perfectly circular? Could you swear it from the deepest of your heart? Noone is totally regular, absolutely square, we all have our quirks, our peculiarities. Maybe you are a shorty, a midget, lanky or ginger? Pasty, stocky or nerdy. Has anyone ever called you a muppet? Or maybe a chav, dodgy or a scrooge? I bet there is something about you I would not find normal, not completely straight, a little eccentric.
You well might be living very far from where I am. That doesn’t matter. Because there is something that commune us, at least the knowledge of the English language, or the fact you breathe in and out, just like I do. Many more things we share, you and I, that’s for sure. Maybe you are into world literature, or Yoga?
This conflicting feeling of being similar, part of a group or social identity, nation or community, and of being different, a little unique is easily understood. I am “I”, and you are “You”, separate id, and different ID. It’s the universal need to belong to something bigger, feel safe in a group of like-minded people, sharing a culture, a view of the world. And the need to assert the individual self.
Everyone knows they are special, unique to themselves. The way each and everyone experiences life and the world, our personal reality, is distinct. Yet most others don’t see it this way, when they meet you, you’re another stranger coming their way.
You’re special to your parents, friends and loved ones and nobody to the rest of humanity. Is this frightening, disarming, or strangely reassuring? Most of us don’t like to be a number, a clog in the machine, a replaceable, unremarkable other. Yet standing out, really standing out can be frightening too.
If you were ever called strange or unusual, even eccentric, in a humorous way, would you find it proof of rejection, an insult, or you’d feel proud in your individuality?
What if everyone, including me and you, were just a bunch of clowns in the circus of life? Trapezists, card readers or hoopers, jugglers, contortionists, unicyclists or cannon balls. Everyday we wear a mask, a suit or a uniform and head out to work. We pretend to like such and such as we are supposed to. We smile or cry because everyone else is, laugh on demand, please on demand. Stand up for our group ideals, political views or national pride. Defend the tribe we belong to, get triggered and offended if someone challenges our belief system.
Most people think of themselves pretty seriously. Life is hard, life is commitment, life is responsibility. Our individual self is dwarfed in comparison to the collective, sacrificed for the greater good of society. 1 in 7.5 billion humans on earth, we are here for maybe 90 years on a billions of years old planet. We’re a grain of sand in the desert of existence, a drop in the ocean. Look at you, in the mirror, seriously for a moment. Full of quirks and contradictions, contrasting ideas, secret desires and paranoia. Could we just be employed in the circus? Couldn’t be, the purpose of all, just a big laugh?
Maybe you have known it all along, this existence was not so serious, not completely real. Maybe you get it alright. If you’re naturally predisposed to see the calamitous, for you danger and pain are everywhere, life is a tragedy. Maybe you love the intense, exciting, emotional, or unexpected, you are fatally drawn to the dramatic? If you have an inclination for farce and satire, life is a comedy. And if you like comedy, your theatre is one of eccentric fun and laughter, one of reckless jokes and sense of humour. Do you sport a Chinese ponytail, a Dali moustache? Man earrings on both sides, a neck tattoo or leather trousers? Wearing a suit with a cowboy hat?
Maybe you are gifted with a loud, roaring voice and a big laugh. You see the irony in every situation, love the burlesque, the funny? Some might say you’re shallow, selfish or a buffoon. Thank them for that.
There’s this guy in Koh Phangan who runs a yoga school, always dressed in white. I don’t know him well but looks like someone who wanted to stand out and struggled all his life with it. He is unremarkably small and sounds like Mickey Mouse, doesn’t have the alpha characteristics of Mick Jagger, he’s the opposite of a rock star. Yet his school is pretty eccentric, rather dandy, with all sort of traditional and new age classes and a bunch of devoted volunteers. That’s his mark on the world, his way of expressing creativity, the unique projection of his own self.
If you are a sensitive and serious type, I bet you got offended by what you read. Or you might be laughing and trying to see where I am going with this. Well I am not going anywhere as there’s nowhere to go. Life is not a journey, it’s a play.
Like artistic types, poets or villains, teenage boys want to stand out, act to impress. Look at me girls, I am cool, I am special, give me a kiss! The rich do the same, the famous want the love of the whole world. Fast cars and bling anyone?
Harmless joker or evil lunatic, from comical to creepy, the uniqueness and quirkiness of personality needs to find a way out, like the sprouting of a seed. It is healthy and very much needed! If only certain people could have a proper laugh, a big, honest, crass belly laugh instead.
Leopard trousers, blonde bleached hair, androgynous look, metrosexual or camp, eccentric types are the ones who get it. They get life is a bit of a joke anyway so why not have a giggle? We are all musicians, artists and comedians in waiting. Your stand up or dramatic performance will be different from mine, more or less original, more or less remarkable, definitely unique.
You might be dressing conventionally and sound very serious and proper, stick to the script, be afraid of judgement, keep in the shade. Well, that would be a shame, a missed opportunity. Relax man (or woman, or in between), the eccentric clown is still there, it might be repressed, put down by conventions but it’s there, inside you, ready to shine. Go let it out!
