I have been reading a great book lately. It's called "Short Bus" by Jon Mooney. He is an adult graduate of Brown University who happens to have dyslexia and grew up being pegged as "learning disabled" and put through public schools in the special education system.
In his book, Mooney travels from California, to the East Coast, and back again. At each stop, he meets up with other of society's "outcasts" and reflects on the common bond of feeling outside of "normal." I wonder, do any of us ever consider ourselves "normal"? Do we each harbor some semblance of being a fraud posing as normal, afraid of being discovered at any moment? Maybe when we finally decide that there is no normal, and resist trying to fit in - maybe that is what being a grown-up is all about. So many of us are faking it - hiding our religion, our politics, even our intelligence just to fit in with the people we consider normal. We cover our faces in make-up and our hair in product, our bodies in designer labels and jewels. We go out into the world, projecting the selves that we want others to perceive us to be. Do we even know who we are any more? Does normal exist?
Ok, I gotta get back to reading now. I'm on the home stretch!