Thailand Gal's Secret Garden from another angle Recently I made an offhanded comment about being an "eccentric outsider" and it generated a few interesting responses. Of course, an astrologer friend says it was inevitable that I would be an outsider. I am a double-Aquarius. :)
I thought it might be interesting to explore how this life is different from so many others. I've come to see it as an identity, a specific personality type, a life path, and we're often misunderstood. Sometimes even despised. Dr Laura would find me appalling! (I think that may be a good thing!) Some see us as a little bit nuts ~ or maybe just plain certifiable. Some may see it as hedonistic (which it is not) and childishly irresponsible. (Hm. Maybe .. a little.) Some can be very judgemental about what they see as a life that is not "productive". (Calvinism be damned!) I see it as an occasionally difficult way of life but for the most part, completely positive.
This quote I remember from Maya Angelou's I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings sums it up well:
'What you looking at me for? I didn't come to stay.' … Whether I could remember the rest of the poem or not was immaterial. The truth of the statement was like a wadded-up handkerchief, sopping wet in my fists, and the sooner they accepted it, the quicker I could let my hands open and the air would cool my palms."
Like most young kids growing up in the 50s and early 60s, my parents put a lot of effort into trying to make me "fit". They'd try to cram that round peg into a square hole and I'd behave for a while. I'd pretend a lot. I'd pretend the things that mattered to those who surrounded me, mattered to me, too. Eventually, pieces of me would begin falling out the sides and the Potemkin village would collapse. I suspect we outsiders see colors differently and our perspectives are just a bit sharper. There's an additional dimension. We ask "why" a lot.. and not getting a sensible answer, wander away without giving it any further consideration. We don't accept something as fact, simply because it's "always been done that way".
We are willing to look at alternative ways of doing things and are rarely threatened by anyone's unusual ideas. Example: my ex-husband, also an eccentric outsider, was completely open to each of us having our private space in the house and our own bedrooms. I wasn't threatened by his going to visit a female friend for the weekend. He wasn't threatened by my exploring some very personal issues in my own life that involved other people whom he did not know. We explored ideas without emotionalism or defensiveness and had a "whatever works" attitude. C. (my ex) had a simple ethical principle that ruled his life. "As it harm none, do as ye will." When we separated and divorced, it was because it was the logical progression of our relationship. We were done learning whatever there was to learn from each other and it was time to move on.
My friends and I come in and out of each other's lives with a great deal of fluidity. It's not that we are shallow or uncaring. We care a great deal but we just don't feel the need for consistency that some do. No one is offended if one of us will disappear for a while, off to explore some new unknown. When he or she is ready to return, they get a warm, accepting reception. I have female friends with whom I correspond or visit a few times a year. And that's okay. One of us will call a "check in" and the other responds. Just last night, I talked on the phone for a few hours with someone I haven't heard from in a year. It was as though we talked last week.
It is a rather whimsical way to live but I've found that it has increased the depth of my personal relationships. The freedom we give each other "lets the air cool our palms".
There is a downside, however, and I've experienced that in its fullness, too. It's hard to see richness in it during the lonely times when nothing fits and nothing makes sense. There are no guarantees with this way of life, no entitlements, no absolute social support system. Living on the outside is living a life with vast, open spaces with very few landmarks. The condition of my life is my responsibility alone. When I crashed and burned in 1994, there was no one around to help me pick up the pieces. I'd left friends scattered around the country and world. None of them could drop everything and run to Arizona.
It is a life of and about choices and consequences. It's about creating. It is about exploring without iron-clad attachments and having to trust our ability to create again.
I find this knowledge central in my decision to move to Thailand. I am getting older now and my ability to "create" isn't what it once was. It costs more emotionally and energetically to start over than it did ten years ago when I came to northern CA. I'm a bit more tired these days. I want to feel secure. Thailand will be my final move. It is where I will grow old and eventually die. I will, once again, create a new circle of friends, a family of choice. My life will end as its always been, as an "eccentric outsider". I will leave nothing behind but an occasional breeze ~ hopefully a refreshing breeze ~ for the people who have passed through my life. I have built no empires and leave behind no heirs. In the final analysis, I don't think I would have done it any differently. Well, I don't think I could have! In that regard, it is not a choice.
Peace,
Thailand Gal
~*~*~
