Getting Out of the Box

I have recently come to believe that I have done no more with my life than learn to 'operate' after a certain fashion, to show at least a formal or external recognition of social conventions.

 

"Hi, Julie, how are you?"

 

"I'm fine," I lie, pasting on a smile.

 

It's obvious that through the years I've discovered nothing more than the proper behaviors and the external form of 'normal' functioning in the world. Show up when you're supposed to, do the job you're supposed to do, do it without complaining, pick up your paycheck on Friday and always get the answer right -- "I'm fine." After enough decades of this, one starts believing that all is fine and the voice inside that's saying 'NO, it's not fine' means that something has to be wrong with you -- because everyone else is fine, right?

 

Inside of me, the true inwardness that we all claim at some point in life (usually childhood), there are places left that remain untouched by society, tradition or culture. The strangely pure and unexpectantly consistent self that has always been there, never far removed from the dumpings of life. I can only posit that, for me, there's a detachment, a ridiculous oddness that encircles my original self, protecting and deducting at all times. It's the part that keeps me sane, the only part of myself I can count on to be true. Within this place I am allowed an objectivity that comforts me and assists me.

 

I think this part of my real self is what allowed me to perform as an exceptional RN at the bedside of pediatric patients for all those years. People would often ask how I could stand taking care of sick children, didn't it upset you to see them sick and hurting? And this would be the common response of the conventional mind. However, for me, living out an 'aside' allowed clearer powers of observation unclouded by the emotions of ordinary people. It is this same litany of character that still lies within, providing a safe place of isolation from the real world and disabling the truths that seem too difficult to realize some days.

 

Most people find this 'observer' quality too impersonal, too inhuman. But at my age, I'm not concerned in the least what others think. I have chosen to shove aside the person of formality that I've become. I desire to live true to myself. I want to trust my own instincts, my own awareness, my own mind.

 

If you were honest with yourself you might even realize that everyone, to an extent, has created his/her own social surface that is presented to the world. Their own personal institutions that warehouse their glued-on social skills. On the outside don't we all appear so normal? When really the false answers and the plastic behaviors only force remoteness and inaccessibility to others. How is this good for relationships? How is this real? How is this any more human than my inward unpluggings, my personal isolations?

 

The least of my concerns at this point in my life is with the niceties, the voices or the gestures of society. I will cry when I need to cry, I will smile when I want to smile. I will speak when I have words to say, I will frown when my heart is breaking. I will snarl if I feel like it, I will perform my responsibilities when I am up to it. I will listen for the echoes of eternity to ring inside again. I will wait for the heaviness of peace to halt the screaming panics inside my heart. I will do all of this when I want, however I want.

I want out of this box -- where the constraints of societal expectations and the pressures of relational activities drown out what I know inside to be true. I'm tired of formulas, results and conclusions. I weary of belief systems, fresh visions and mustard seeds.

 

I can tell you this, I am tired of trying to line up my life and everything in it into neat, monotonous rows. This endless fixing of things that can never be pieced together coupled with the futile building of things that were never meant to be completed has worn me out. As I recall the definition of insanity -- doing the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result -- it leaves me no choice but to pull the leaver marked 'stop' on this ridiculous Ferris Wheel of life.

 

Now, how do I reach the on/off leaver if I'm locked into this creaky, old seat that's swinging me around in circles?

Comments

[Julie]

Hi Sheri. Thanks for finding my blog and for reading. I'm glad you were able to identify with 'Getting Out of the Box'. I think we've all gone through these times when we just need life to be REAL and we want to throw the veneer of our fake selves right out the window. Living authentically can be challenging, but, to me, it's worth it -- when I can do it. Thanks again for reading. I hope you visit again. Thanks also for kind words regarding my writing.

[Sheri DeLoach]

Julie, Just finished reading 'Getting Out of the Box' and I want to thank you for it. I found myself with the same thoughts/feelings/deductions of my life at this point ! 'Tired of the Niceties.' You are a talented writer that God has gifted. Sorry I haven't read your blog, only one tonight, until now...