Out of the Box

One of my more candid friends jokingly chided me on my outfit today. Typical Mom-in-the-park sweatpants, T-shirt, sneakers, topped off by a rather expensive pair of sunglasses and a UV rated visor. She said I was 'Jackie O' from the neck up, but elsewhere ~ pure 'comfy Mom'. She said I defied category, and wondered jokingly if I was making some kind of a statement of sorts?

Though not deliberately, I do believe there IS a statement or two to be gleaned from the conversation inspired by my attire.

The MICRO ~ (OR: me standing up for my beloved sweat/T-shirt-meets-Hollywood ensemble...)

A. All of my clothing was clean when I left my house. After a lunch with two children and 90 minutes in the dirt, grass, bark and a brief foray into the bushes to retrieve my wandering son, all bets were off. But I did START OUT with a freshly laundered outfit.

B. I am in the park with two kids under four ~ this is not a fashion runway/ other appropriate place for haute couture. Granted, my sweatpants and T-shirt are not the most alluring ensemble, but they are super comfortable and allow me to move and enjoy the real reason I am here: to play with my children and to enjoy the day. Besides, bark chips tend interfere with high heels and cause quite a nuisance to silk, cashmere, and acetate.

C. The pricey sunglasses and visor, in addition to wearing TWO different kinds of sunblock, speak to my avid dedication of active combat against the sun. Having experienced a very serious skin cancer incident in 2002, I will never again step into the sunlight without these bare essentials. Considering my level of concern and unwavering militance about sun protection, it speaks highly of my degree of personal restraint that I do not wear a NASA approved helmet outside ~ instead opting for the more socially acceptable old Hollywood look: prominent sunglasses, visor, and occasionally a wraparound scarf. Hey, for me, sun exposure is deadly serious.

The MACRO ~ (me diving into deep thoughts from a shallow launching pad of a conversation)

This exchange, though brief and entered into playfully, circled around my mind quite a bit today and migrated across topical lines into other genres. I ended up here:

WHY is there a persistent need to classify and categorize? People, trends, politics, religion, etc. We have this abiding need to sort things into piles in our minds, don't we?

Particularly with people, is this effort done for our own comfort? Is it for peace of mind - the ability to feel safe and confident that we "know" someone? That we can easily dismiss ideas or people whose "boxes" we do not share or like? Is it because, in this rapidly changing world of blurring edges, we need to create finite definitions and then work to fit people into them ~ rather than realzing the futility of such broad strokes of pidgeon-holing?

My friend was correct ~ I did defy categorization this morning. And I unabashedly enjoyed inhabiting that space, actually. I find it an arrogant or disrespectful notion that we all should so clearly and crisply fit into contrived versions of who we should be, according to an amorphous set of standards. Where did we come up with these lists of criteria anyway? Why is it that we are unsettled when someone exists outside of the boxes we so want them to fit within in our minds? So much so, that we often shove people into our ill-fitting, stereotypical categories, close the lid on those boxes, and sit on the lid until they quiet down and cease their escape attempts?

My outfit notwithstanding (those who know me personally do eventually succumb to the realization that my loyalty for sweatclothes is here to stay and that my "work-clothes" are joyously traded for my "real clothes" at every opportunity), I doubt there are many who could be accurately and totally embody the idea we've formed in our minds of who they "should be" based on our perceptions of their roles, their religion, their family, their political party, their affiliations, their education, their culture, or their relationships.

I find reality much more rewarding to contemplate, but embracing the truth of who people at at their core involves actively shedding our contrivances. And allowing our perceptions of others to be pure, not filtered through our pre-conceived notions and contrived version of who they are.

For myself, although shock value is not a highly prized goal of mine, I do find amused satisfaction when something I do, say, believe, or am at my very inner core surprises someone close to me. When the balance of my life seems odd to others, that alone is fulfilling in its miniscule way. What seems an odd marriage of conflicting influences of choices to some:

*Ugg Boots with my grandmothers' pearl earrings,
*"Republican" who is saturated with environmental causes, supports legal civil unions, and is personally invested in the committment to healing the AIDS crisis in sub-saharan Africa and in efforts to solve generational poverty, hunger, and human suffering world-wide
*NRA member with well-honed, accurate aim who absolutely abhors hunting and hopes to never face a "real-life" scneario in which I would need to fire my gun
*Former regional ballerina who is ridiculously clumsy offstage, etc.)

are, in truth, the ingredients of BALANCE in my life.

We do each other such a disservice when we are satisfied with a meager anemic categorizations of our fellow human beings around us. That is not to truly understand people and know them at their core. Rather, it is the safe route we take to in effort to deliberately AVOID the effort of truly understanding one another and learning each others' souls.

Perhaps the unintended message of my clothing choices today is simply that balance is achieved by blending seemingly polarized elements together until your heart is at rest.

For me, my baggy sweatpants and Chanel glasses speak to the harmonious balance inherent in my life. It may look odd to some to wear what I wear, say what I say, or do what I do in the combinations I have chosen, but that is the point. I am who I am. I resist the boxes of watertight categories we employ in our attempt to sort and classify people so rigidly. What is the point of that, exactly? The effort seems to move us backwards instead of propelling us toward a wiser commonality of sharing the earth with people who, by God's design, are each unique, thus defying out system of sorting piles entirtely. Diversity is only a positive step if we do not make it a goal, but a PROCESS toward reaching the destination of seeking to know and love one another as God first loved us. Now THAT is a worthy goal I can get onboard with.

Even if it sometimes does involve an errant pairing of a NASA visor helmet with Ugg boots and a wicked pair of sunglasses.

Ah, balance.