Dare To Be Stupid

So last night I was hanging out with some friends watching the Weird Al concert at the conclusion of the State Fair and while our Nerd Laureate was performing the aforementioned song, I think I had a Grinch moment. Let me be clear for those of you who may not have little ones who force the Great Green Who on them repeatedly, I mean the Grinch who's heart grew three sizes at the end of the story. I felt an enormous swell of love for the man and the myth that is Weird Al. He is flippin' weird. Maybe my response was inflated based on an afternoon spent with my good friend Darrick and his thorough embrace of all things odd, his life of art, his fascination with strange. I admire him for his willing journey into himself, and as many times as I am challenged to see things differently every time I am around him, I am equally challenged to redefine the way I see myself. In the presence of people the world has dubbed "outsiders" or "weird", I have to wonder what the world dubs me, and if I deserve it.

Our society is two faced, I don't think I have to tell you. The people who revolutionize anything are weird, the people who change things and therefore move things forward, who shake things up, they are weird. They have to be. They have to "dare to be stupid", or they never dare anything. The fear of judgment, fear of success and fear of failure that keeps so many people in their respective boxes is a machine we've designed for ourselves. So how do people break out of it? Can we break out of it? It's not just what people around us say, but what they don't say. When they're saying that the economy is shaky for people stepping out on their own, that it's a shame, but the industry isn't interested in anything but what sells, when they say nobody has done it that way before, what they're also saying without saying it is that they are afraid and you should be too. These same people admire the free thinkers. They read books about them, watch television and movies about them, pore over them in magazines, but never make the connection that their idols are not so different from themselves.

Ask any group of people what their dream job is, and you will hear a wide variety of possibilities. But they are that: possibilities. They're not all outrageous, so why is there no room for those things to happen? Somebody wants to be a wedding planner, somebody wants to be an exotic animal groomer, somebody wants to be an artist. In the grand scheme of things, none of these dreams is outrageous, so why is it so hard to make them happen? Maybe as much as we admire people who stand tall in their profession, we resent our peers who attempt the same fate. In that, are we resentful of our own desires? It's easier, on some superficial level, to have what you need and nothing more. You don't have to answer for your success, sure. You can keep complaining about being unfulfilled, okay. You can commiserate with your peers endlessly. What would you have in common with the displeased masses if you were no longer terribly displeased?

I could go on and on about the psychology of our group resignation from the dream life. But in keeping with my title, I'd rather focus on the opposite. The world needs pinpricks of light in the gray. The world needs weird. That sounds kind of obvious, but maybe it's something we need to reexamine. Because we are all weird. Why is it only for the game-changers that it's allowed? Dancing tango by yourself in your kitchen, modeling mythic creatures late at night, collecting anything, singing. You think about the big ways you are weird, and all the little ways too, and remember that your idiosyncrasies, all of ours put together, are what make life awesome. So whether you get through your fear by ignoring it or hearing it and moving forward anyway, I hope you try. I am trying. I celebrate your efforts, and I hope you celebrate mine. Let nobody tell you how to be inspired.

xoxo
aurelin