Perceived – Dreamyoga

Many people might wish to fit in and be “normal”. That is comply and not be the sore thumb of life. These may seek to blend with a peer group if they are not normal in the populace at large. Geeky McGeekface is more at home with others of similar persuasion and not comfortable being with the popular plastic fantastic.

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I will speculate that I am not within two standard deviations of the peak of the normal distribution of intellect. By this I am already slightly abnormal. It is not really significant because there are many way further out. They will have a higher IQ according to how these things are measured and be much better at conventional examinations than me. I am not normal but not significantly abnormal either.

On other metrics I may be more of an outlier or anomaly. It is not my ego or desire to be weird which is suggesting that, rather a detached observation. I don’t particularly want to be special or different, but I am or appear to be, a bit odd. Socially I am not a mixer and socio-politically I do not play the itchy back game so enamoured of by many. Because I am less easy to leverage by “what is in it for me” people may deem me less tractable to control and/or ready manipulation. I do not play “the” game. I am not one of “US”. I am not “good people”.

My bones have osteoporosis so they are among the 0.5% too thin for my age and sex. This is significant enough for the medics to want to medicate me in case I end up in A&E with another fracture.

What each of us finds significant depends upon our terms of reference and the world which we perceive and assimilate. Thousands watched “the Lionesses” on The Mall this afternoon. They are mostly normal in this respect. I watched a bit on TV. Does that make me normal?

Life circumstance has me/us where we are, living the way we do. Our impact on the outer world is minuscule because we do not interact overmuch. In the grand scheme of things human we are not significant. Though in the past we have both changed and facilitated many lives. Our life circumstance and health in particular, limits us. Because there is no fairy godmother our life circumstance is very unlikely to change and even it did, there is no dynamic reserve of time and energy to offer. To an extent we are spent.

Put me in a car on the M25 and I may not cope. I can no longer hack the outside world. A few glancing interactions perhaps and that is about it. Even if someone wanted it otherwise, it isn’t and cannot be. I have not been in a proper city for more than a week or so in the last six years and that for hospital / health reasons. I am a bumpkin these days…Life circumstance has me away from the crowd. It is better for me and probably for them too.

Here is an aphorism pertaining to the rule of the three pronged nagal from the Toltec Teachings by Théun Mares

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This is not a normal example or tract of text. The question might be, “is it significant?”.

As is so often the case, it depends upon context. It sounds grandiose and might fleetingly captivate the attention. To the vast majority of people it has no personal significance and at best might be a curiosity. People are concerned with Facebook, Insta and TikTok. This type of thing would be abnormal to them. It is not abnormal to me.

I think it fair and accurate to speculate that what is normal and significant for/to me is abnormal and insignificant for others.

Thus we are in the subjective. Normality and significance are not objective, people make {personal} judgments which may or may not be rational concerning these notions. At the moment its seems normal to bomb the fuck out of Gaza and starve the people. This is normal for some but abnormal, brutal and evil to my eyes. The Palestinian death toll is more significant on Al Jazeera, less so on the BBC.

So-called normality is not always a strong recommendation for being better. Significance can depend upon prejudices and alliance.

If I was a mosquito, I would be grossly insignificant, unless I were in your bedroom of a hot summer night, and a bit peckish. Then for a few hours I could be significant.

Significance has a temporal component. It was once normal to have slaves. Slavery was more significant for the slaves than for the masters. That normality is now shunned and people are asked to accept the significance of their past slave ownership. Nothing can undo the abuse and torture. A few quid here and there, a public apology, does not change one single lash of the whip.

Being normal may not be all that it is cranked up to be!

Normality has a checkered past…

Who knows what is normal for you, right now, may in time be seen as a misguided travesty. But for the time being you have the comfort of your peer group to tell you, “We concur old chap” and that everything is just dandy.

I am not sure that anything normal has brought about progress, ever. In that sense being normal is largely insignificant.

…never look a gift horse in the mouth

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I’ll speculate that there is a good chance that I might be perceived as a quasi-Jurassic old fart.

The estate agent recently said that we had a lot of DVDs just like his parents. I do not know most of the protagonists in Wimbledon, I have no idea what music “stars” are popular with the exception of Taylor Swift, on celeb Goggle Box I have no idea who some of them are and I could not name more than a few of the Labour party cabinet. I recognise a few players in the England cricket team and am perhaps the most up to date with northern hemisphere rugby. I do not use a smart ‘phone and have never done “face time”.

Science fiction can predict with sometimes uncanny accuracy future trends. The detailed match is not exact but the scoping predictive. We have Orwell’s 1984 and now webcams and microphones driven by fibre broadband in most homes. The Trumpian “ministry of truth” publishes edicts to millions over the internet. The propaganda wars are on. We have the “new-speak” of wokeism and offence at pronoun use.

In the film “Logan’s Run” the young and the beautiful have an expiry date before they go to “Dignitas” for recycling. When the time comes, they are expunged. Everyone must be young and sexy and beautiful. Fat crippled old men are not allowed. Books are an antique artefact of the past.

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Now you can get Turkey teeth, a Brazilian bum lift, liposuction, a bionic penis and a designer vagina. You can get lip filler so that you look like a pollock who has bitten a stinging jellyfish and get plastic bags full of chemicals sewn into your tits. You can take weight loss drugs instead of heroin to lose weight. And of course you can buy Sino-Mexican fentanyl at bargain basement prices for a few pesos.

Not all “progress” is uplifting or good.

There is a tendency to throw the baby out with the bath water.

The summer of 2003 was pivotal for me. I had just gotten divorced and went on a PADI advanced open water diving course, on my own, at Sharm El-Sheikh. I was partnered with a young woman who was intelligent and a cardio-fit dentist. She was also a fairly high level rower, only a little younger than me. She was on holiday with others of the rowing “Henley” set and there was some talk about some of them preparing for Olympics. She represented two things I did not understand, the choice of dentistry as a profession and competing in rowing. I could not and still cannot understand dentistry as a profession. Yes, it relieves pain and is financially viable but isn’t it a tad repetitive and boring.

We got on fairly well and worked OK as a team. We were both a bit anxious. It turned out that she was single and looking to change that. I understood that she was attractive according to how these things are perceived. I saw her mostly as my diving partner. She talked a lot. Then one day on the bus she looked at my recent root canal work, which was not up to scratch according to her professional opinion. I knew at that moment her orientation towards me had changed from mild interest to “no, this geezer has bad teeth”. There was a slight cooling on her part. I had been scratched off a mental list.

When we finished the course, I climbed Mount Sinai on the night before my birthday and saw dawn of my birthday atop said hill. It was for me a truly transcendent experience. Something very powerful started that day and I was “off my trolly” for most of the journey back to London.

In this inane example she looked in my mouth and did not like what she saw. A perception was based on a single variable. It was a show stopper for her.

Nowadays where everybody has to be plastic-fantastic with their own PR and propaganda anti-social media platforms it is difficult to find a non-embellished reality. The drive to subscribe and adhere to a faux-perfection is said to be a driver for poor mental health. It is difficult to know who or what we really are or may be.

Cosmetically my appearance to the young is not appealing. I have yellowing teeth with several gaps. I am portly and hirsute. My below belt grandpa-garden is untended. I have not had a crack back and sack, ever. My teeth, which remain, are my own. There is no dental mortgage. I do not dress fashionably and I waddle when I walk, like a duck. I have never had an umbilical cord to my iPhone or Galaxy. If I were to attempt to type a text it would be snail pace and error strewn. I am a bumpkin, a yokel even pikey. I have zero power or kudos by association

I am in a package which would be unappealing, no doubt some might seek to educate me and bring me up to date. Were I to have things to share and impart, many would not be able to see past the gift wrap.

“What can that crippled old man with gappy yellow teeth possibly have to offer me? He is such a success, he has done so very well for himself, not.”

How we are perceived may differ substantially from how we actually are. People can squander opportunity based on prejudice about how things ought to be…

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…beware of Greeks bearing gifts.

Tag: Perceived

Significant and Normal

How We Are Perceived…