Belonging

Have you ever considered what the difference is between fitting in and belonging? When you cut your hair in a certain style or dress like your neighbor you are attempting to fit in. Weirdly, there are only two other people in America with a haircut like mine, they are Trey Gowdy and Anderson Cooper. Our haircut appears at first glance that we simply put our heads in a pencil sharpener and gave it a couple of turns. Come to think of it, that might serve as a fine alternative, and I could save some money in the process. But considering how there are only three of us I will consider us trend setters instead of copycats. Whether or not I have deluded myself about that subject I will leave up to you.

Sometimes when we sit in a room with our immediate kin, we do not feel a sense of belonging. There is something to the saying that blood is thicker than water, but kinship and friendship are not one in the same. There are some of us that belong to NOTHING or ANYONE. They are rare but they are nevertheless out there. Have you ever been a room full of people yet still felt totally alone? This never happens to me because either (sadly or happily, depending on your own point of view) I was born with the gift of gab. I can always find an old timer in that crowd who will cuss and discuss with me which is better, a Massey Ferguson or a John Deere, and the many uses of bag balm. BTW, did you know that Bag Balm can be used to take the squeak out of rusty bed springs? ALSO, you can dab a bit of Caster Oil on a rusty fence post and take the squeak out of a corral fence.

At this point I should point out that isolation and solitude are not the same thing. Isolation is when you get thrown in the hole in prison. In addition, there is no college class called "Being Alone #101, but maybe there should be. I could certainly teach it, teaching certificate notwithstanding. I relish solitude, it helps me maintain my mental well-being. Most times when Monday rolls around again I am not ready to give up my solitude. The only thing that helps me maintain my inner-Tasmanian Devil is strong coffee and stale Danish. One of the things I think it is important to remember when raising kids is to teach them to enjoy their alone time without their face stuck in a phone. I know many adults too who are afraid to be alone with their own thoughts. Indeed, there is an art to enjoying solitude. I know why I enjoy it, it's because I am entertained by my own company and silly rhetoric. You have seen those people who laugh a bit too hard at their own jokes? Sadly, that's me. It is immaterial to me whether or not my own musings are funny to anyone else, the fact is I enjoy them and that's all that matters. I suppose I should be ashamed, but I am too busy being amused to fit that into my schedule.

There was a time when we referred to my dad as "the hermit." Sadly, he has passed. These days I have a better understanding of why he felt the need for so much alone time. Let us set aside for a moment that what he chose to do in his alone time was at times highly questionable. I have watched (from another room mind you) the old man spending an hour trimming his beard. He would sometimes spend days on end tending to his bees and observing their bee behavior. This behavior I am referring to is fascinating; if you have never made the time to dig into, I suggest you do so. It also came to my attention that the old man set aside multiple hours to teach a feisty old Tom cat to do tricks like a dog. He taught him to give 5, sit up and beg for food, and roll over and play dead. And all of this time you thought miracles only happened in Biblical days.