I would like to go back to a “normal” world!
Normal will be simple, pleasant and good.
Normal will help us live the way we should!
Normal for me may not be normal for you, but we all aspire to some other style for sure.
Long before Twiggy there was Paul Rubens. Women were voluptuous and men loved painting them. Before, I would’ve been considered too skinny. Before, people would’ve stood in line wanting to feed me … I’m sure of it.
Before Freud you could scream at your child without feeling that he would be scarred for life; and a spank on the tush didn’t make you feel like you were creating a future violent offender.
Before Martha Stewart you could serve meals without a perfect table setting and gourmet fare. Just simple hearty food would have been a cause for happiness, shared by all.
Before the rise of individuation we didn’t cater to children, serving chicken to Jimmy and hamburger to Johnny. The mother cooked and you had to eat. If you didn’t like it, then you were out of luck!
Orthodontists used to be a rare breed, since not everyone thought your teeth had to be so perfectly symmetrical. Your pearly whites were independently aligned, or not.
There was no “perfect smile”. There was a natural smile, hopefully from the heart.
Before big homes and consumerism, children used to share rooms. Nobody thought each child had to have a room of his own. Did you ever think of how ludicrous it is to have a lone two-year-old occupy a single room? This 28-pound midget needs a whole room?!? And, because we are not tough enough to control our children, we buy them their own PCs and TVs because we don’t want them to fight with each other. Besides, TV is such a great baby sitter!
Because I’m old, I remember a time without TV; a time when we had to go outside and play together. Because we were of modest means, we didn’t have many toys, so we made them up from sticks and leaves and branches. Lo and behold, we never felt deprived, poor or neglected. This was normal.
We came home from school, had half-hour of homework, and then played in the street. Nobody wanted you to know how to read when you were two years old, just like no one wanted you to walk when you were two months old. You walked when you walked, you talked when you talked – and you read (hopefully, but not always), when you started first-grade. In kindergarten you played, and nobody expected you not to. This too, was normal.
In normal times, dogs didn’t wear sweaters – and certainly not designer outfits.
And to continue my venting on ridiculous consumerism (not that I’m above it myself) …
In normal times, pets didn’t have their own stores, and they didn’t have 100’s of different kinds of food to choose from.
Sometimes I wonder how we survived without a plethora of plenty.
Sometimes I wonder how we remain creative, with so much to choose from nowadays.
Sometimes I wonder if “separation and individuation” actually increase emotional pain.
And I mostly wonder, like I always do: How come we’re so positive that what we do is right, and how we do it… is normal?