Location, Location, Location

All children have defining moments in their childhood which shape and develop the adults that they inevitably grow up to be, those moments that either brought them closer to their peers, children of the same age that are grouped with them at daycare, school, church, etc., or separated them from the crowd.  Growing up in a small rural community allowed only these two options for a child.  In or Out.  The rules are simple: follow the crowd, have no opinion that is not pre-approved, go to church so that you will be well informed of the scandals one’s neighbors are involved in, and always soften a nasty comment with a smile and a “God bless their sweet little hearts.”

As you might have guessed, I am very bad at following the rules. Looking in from the outside, you would not think so. I come from a long line of Southern Tradition. My great-grandmother could have been Scarlett O’Hara’s twin sister in beauty, temperamental disposition and an overall opinion on the way things should be at all times.  The women were high and mighty.  The men were all preachers.  I was a perfect candidate to be “In,” and I would have been a perfect Southern Belle if only I had not inherited that other horrific quality that my family possesses - creativity.  Like most in my family, I was born with natural curiosity and a healthy dose of artistic expression. Already tatting and crocheting, reading and tearing through any music I could get my hands on, I began Elementary school as the girl who did the weird stuff.  This continued but was modified to “the weird girl” by the time I made it to high school. 

Then, I made my great escape…to college where I discovered that I was not “the weird girl.” Instead, all of that time, I had been a victim of location.  All around me were people who thought for themselves and were all busy trying to realize their full potential.   During that time I absorbed as much as I could, I traveled and surprisingly, became nostalgic for the simplicity of home.  So, against all comprehensible belief, I moved back to that rural town in the South where my mind had conveniently forgotten that I was “the weird girl.”  Only this time upon my return to being the oddball in a small town, I have discovered that being the one with a different point of view leaves an abundant amount of room for humor and sarcasm in almost every situation.

Just this week as I sat at my work desk, I was informed that I was a “Creative Person” and not very suitable for office work.  Was this an insult to my ability to do my job? Not at all.  This was a perfect example of a good ole Southern Insult.  “Creative Person” translates to “You aren’t really like the rest of us are you,” while the tone implies, “you poor thing. There just does not seem to be anything we can do to make you like us.”

Thank God, the Goddess and all the powers that be.

Perhaps there was a time when comments like this hurt my feelings, but now they only seem to make me smile.  This blog is my way in sharing the humor in differences and how creativity, bless it’s heart, sure can ruffle feathers.

For all of the creative people, perhaps this passage , taken from The Lessons of St. Francis of Assisi by John Michael Talbot,  explains it best:

Too many people tend to think that humanity is divided into two groups - the creative people…and all the rest.  St. Francis of Assisi taught that creativity comes with humanity.  He believed that all of us were created to create. 

Creativity started with God.

“God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.”