Being Me

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

I love people who are unique. When I people-watch I feel like I know what art enthusiasts feel like at the Louvre. Most of my acquaintances who call themselves people watchers are really just looking for someone to make fun of. For me, though, it is educational. I feel like my eyes are opened to possibilities and my heart smiles. Maybe it is an effect of growing up in a small town where the population was pretty homogenous. I don't know, but I have nothing but respect for individuals marching to their own beat.

How can I not respect a guy riding an old Penny-Farthing, well, anywhere? Who doesn't love the one sports fan wearing a Yankee jersey at Fenway Park or the couples in the matching outfits? I have to smile at the tenacity of the frenzied mom and dad at the airport, wheeling carry-ons and holding their three kids on leashes. (They have better names, but "leash" is what I always go with). I admire the 20 year old in a brown bowler hat, and feel like I need to shake the hand of any gentleman who dons a bow tie for any occasion, or none at all.

I, myself am not particularly interesting. I am 98.8 % certain that if I were walking with the masses, no people-watcher anywhere would take note. My clothing and outward appearances are definitely not how I define myself. I pretty much wear clothes simply because otherwise I would be naked. But though my outside is quite bland, I feel like I am firmly aware of my quiet idiosyncrasies, and rather than try to squelch them and be more "normal", I have embraced them. The list is long, and each one could be explored in its own self-revealing essay, but the short list of my oddities is...

I am far too deeply in love with fictional characters, and Bon Jovi. I talk to myself, constantly. I answer on occasion. I am terrified of scary movies. I believe that whoever first invented the idea of zombies was, quite simply, the devil in disguise. If I even think a zombie might make an appearance in a TV show or movie, I'm out. I listen to Christmas carols pretty much year round, and "Oh Come All Ye Faithful" is my daughter's favorite lullaby. (Yes, I said lullaby).
I LOVE music. I go for long walks simply because it is a time to be alone with my iPod. I feel alive at the theater, but rather than being inspired by great talent, I am sent spiraling into a depression about my own lack of awesomeness. (It took me three full days to recover after I watched Wicked, the musical). I cannot imagine being so gifted, and making a living with my gift! Yesterday, I taught class with a British accent for quite nearly the entire day. In my defense, I tried to stop but they prefer my fake voice.

I guess that might be part of what I love about catching a glimpse of someone outwardly unique. I feel like they are showing on the outside what I am feeling on the inside. They share their flair while mine is less obvious, but we are both whistling Dan Fogelberg songs in a world that cares who Lady Gaga is. So, in a way, we are kindred, unusual, amazing spirits! How depressing the world would be if it lacked the color of people just being themselves!

I was going to post a picture of myself but it seemed more appropriate to post a picture of one of the strange things about me. On my perfect day I would be sitting on this couch singing along...quietly...so as not to miss one single note of his perfect tenor voice. LOL!