The Joy of Inner Divergence. Well, Sometimes.

There was an IG Challenge going around recently to describe yourself by posting 3 fictional characters that could represent you. I couldn’t do it. There’s Flo the happy, upbeat, cheery Progressive Insurance woman, sure. (I’ve been told this by certain family members.) Of course there’s my inner Phoebe Buffet, the spiritual dingbat. I can be a bit of a wallflower in an Ugly Betty sort of way.  Then there’s Bridget Jones. Maybe Sergent Carter? ask my son. Judging Amy? Or is that Judge Judy? Mother Theresa. I don’t know. Wait. Those last two aren’t fictional. They don’t count.

Previously I commented on being a bit of walking paradox, and sometimes I wonder how I got to be me, because outside of my son to a degree and who has made a career out of trying to hide it, no one else in the family is remotely like me. I’ve been the boho, free spirited, ‘New Age-y’ type far before the term New Age was ever coined. I was never ‘not‘ this way.  Spiritual AF, always living on a wing and a prayer (which FYI freak my brothers out immensely.) Christianity, Buddhism, Wicca, the Power of Positive Thinking, The Law of Attraction, Crystals, (*though still not truly convinced in the healing power of rock, they sure are pretty and make great pocket pals) Tarot, The Power of Now. I don’t follow any one belief system to the full, I tie them all together with a big pretty bow, and it’s there I can make sense in it all.  If I had my own religion, it’d be along the lines of Christzenity. Light some incense, grab your mala beads and open your Bibles now please to Mark 11:24. Shanti, shanti.

 

Then there’s that other side. The WTF side. This hyper analytical, super logical eye roller with the clear cut ability to see both side of the coin, and the quantum third side (because I’m magical like that), mediator extortioner. Lets meet in the middle people and wrap it up. Less flower power and more WTF! get your shit together and stop fucking around! Of course that last sentence could just be a note to self too. I digress.

I’ve yet to figure out if it’s the ADHD that makes me this way or if it’s a just a series of life experiences and events. Maybe a little of both, but most of the time I don’t mind it. I like the diversity of my kooky unique mind. I’m innattentive ADHD so I tend to live in my head  maybe a bit more than my hyperactive counter part, and I find amusement in the most mundane things, and it’s those little delights that keep me happy, and me being happy is the utmost importance to me, myself and I. If I look bored know that my brain 20180109_102524.pnghas many hobbies going on in there. If I appear lazy, know that my mind is no doubt on some covert mission. I’m sure I always seem a little off, perhaps out to lunch, I’m not, and know this, I’m exceedingly aware of everything that is going on around me, and  if I appear random it’s because I am, but not really. Years ago I had a rather youngster of supervisor say to me “you’re weird.” Just like that too, as serious as a heart attack. Just a flat out, plain old, “you’re weird.” Frankly I laughed out loud and motioned him over to me where I let him in on this little secret. I told him “I don’t act silly, random or weird to entertain you or anyone other than myself, it’s in fact what keeps me sane, and to be honest, just between the two of us, I’m probably the sanest person you’ll ever hope to meet.” Ha! True. We were fast friends afterwards. Never judge a book by its cover, but I’m guilty of that too. Aren’t we all.

I suppose we all have this inner divergence, we’re all multi dimensional human beings, I think my ADHD has just kicked it up a notch. I can jump from jeans and tee shirt, to a wine, jazz and documentary nerd, to boho tree hugging hippie chick, only to turn around and embrace my straight up inner Nordstrom-esque snob, leaving my own self questioning even now, in dawn of my menopausal years of life, …  who the fuck am I anyway!?

 

 

This is my theme. The journey of this year. I say this here and now on my second glass of wine. Maybe. I’ll journal the journey now and again here, if I remember and my ADHD doesn’t pull me off in some other direction, which it might. Probably. Odds are pretty good. It’s just a random Monday night.

 

7 Cups BonFire Tarot

7 cups

What? Huh? Mmmm? What? ….  Of course I’m listening.

2 thoughts on “The Joy of Inner Divergence. Well, Sometimes.

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