The Conformity of the Non-Conformist

One of the first things I realized (almost as soon as I had any conscious thoughts at all) was that I wasn’t like everyone else.

I remember looking around me as a small child and thinking, “WTF?  What is this place?”  Or at least the baby equivalent of that.  🙂

Oh, I had a pretty good family.  My parents were good people and did their best – no complaints there.  My siblings were good kids (and are good people).  Back then adults really did look out for kids, and I grew up trusting that no real harm was going to come to me.

But still…I saw so much of that “saying-one-thing-and-doing-another” stuff.  I remember once when the church we attended had a men’s breakfast after the service.  Everyone listened attentively to the priest’s wise words, did the hymns and the prescribed prayers, knelt, stood and sat reverently.  And then the fathers and sons beat feet downstairs to the social hall for pancakes and eggs.  As I sat scarfing down the good stuff, I listened as the dads and uncles talked (listening was my main hobby back then – and it still stands me in good stead).  I have to admit that, having just come from what was considered a holy activity, it was jarring to hear the men cuss, talk about women (though admittedly in a subtle, early-60’s kind of way), put down guys who happened not to be there at the time, and otherwise just be regular old profane men, the way men will be.  I found myself wondering which face was the real one.  Of course, now I understand most of that.  But that kind of seeming contrast in behavior, over time, lead me to the conclusion that 90% of the world was just phony horseshit.  And I was not up for phony horseshit.

So, I had no choice but to become a non-conformist.

Fortunately, there appeared to be plenty of opportunities in the 1960’s.  After the gray-flannel-suited 50’s, things got pretty wild there in around ’66.  Beatniks, hippies, bikers, avant-garde art…it all came together at once.  And those kinds of things seemed to provide a blueprint for the budding non-conformist.  Tune in, turn on, drop out.  Do your own thing.  Free love.  I tasted all of it that I could.

But it wasn’t long before I realized that this, too, was pretty much 99% horseshit.  Cut your hair?  Narc.  Ride a Honda instead of a Harley?  Not a real biker.  Drink beer instead of doing peyote?  Redneck.

Every pre-fabricated movement that purported to be out of the mainstream had, and has, its own set of rules.  Break those rules, and you’re out.

Aha!

Finally (and it took longer than I care to admit), I realized that to really, truly be myself, what I needed to do was to refuse to conform…even to non-conformity.  I am the hippie who eats bacon…the redneck listening to Dylan…the spiritual man who refuses to go to church.  The intellectual who uses the word “horseshit”.  It’s me.

Now, if you’re a thoughtful person, chances are you’ve come to the same conclusion…but maybe not.  Maybe you never even tried to not conform to non-conformity…or worse, you let the fear of being outside the pack overwhelm you, and you did your best to meet society’s expectations.  Either way, you should know that the story you’ve built about who you are is probably a lie and it’s not doing you any good.

There is a core to you that isn’t like anything else in the Universe.  Be it.  Snowflakes got nuttin’ on us.  Don’t even try to think outside the box… realize that there is no box besides the one you build for yourself.