The
New Normal; Next to Normal; Nowhere Near Normal; Normal, Illinois..…
Redefining Normal
I was enjoying a good conversation with
our school secretary (and while I understand why that term is no longer in
vogue, I’ve always thought a good school secretary is the single most important
person in the building) the other day and we talked about adjusting our views
of normal since the deaths of our parents.
I’m sure that
working in a school helps in making that kind of adjustment; even the
expression “normal day” is oxymoronic, to say nothing of “normal week,” “normal
month” or “normal year.” But what is “normal” anyway? If it means average, is
that really what anyone aspires to? Is being “run of the mill” much of a goal?
Is anyone normal? Aren’t we all at least a little bit weird (and if we’re not,
aren’t we mostly boring)?
Self-satisfaction,
and I’d even argue happiness, comes from accepting who we are and where we are
in life. That requires a constant redefining of normal. Are any of us the same
person we were ____ years ago? Why would we think we’re going to stop changing,
now that we’ve reached the age of ____?
However,
studies show that we do think that; they also show we’re wrong. It’s a great example of
“stinkin’ thinkin’.” Because we assume we’ve stopped changing, we get stuck.
Even if we do stop changing (and, to reiterate, I don’t believe that), the
world around us obviously is constantly mutating, whether we approve or not.
Because we’re stuck in an obsolete definition of normal, we refuse to redefine
what is normal for us, for our loved ones, for society even; thus, we have
trouble adjusting, and, by extension, finding joy, contentment, happiness, etc.
Normal is
relative, and different for each of us. I may be in the same profession, but
I’m not the same person I was 42 years ago when I started my teaching career;
I’m not the same person I was 5 years ago, probably not even the same as last
year. I certainly know my body is different, that what I’m physically (and even
mentally) capable of today has changed. I could bemoan my encroaching
decrepitude, or I could redefine normal.
I am a terrible
golfer. But there’s a golf analogy that fits. As I was talking about golf and
my multiple golfing deficiencies, a dear friend of mine, the late Rick Smith
(who, for those who were lucky enough to know him, was forced to (frequently
but successfully) redefine normal for himself in ways that were unfortunate and
unfair), shared something he had picked up. He said, in essence, “Your par
doesn’t have to be what the scorecard says. You have to decide what par
(average, normal) means for you.” Why should that apply only to golf (which,
with apologies to my golfing friends, isn’t really that important)?
There is
no universal normal; if we think about it, I doubt that we would
want there to be. What does exist is our ability to define for
ourselves how to define par, achieving the best possible result instead of
fixating on the best result possible (Berndt’s Rule of Life #4). While I
believe this to be true, what will be more of a challenge is accepting the changes
and limitations that are inexorably making their way in my direction. I hope
I’m up to the task. But if the challenge is too great, I can always redefine
normal.
