I was fortunate to be brought into this world by two non-conformists. My mother, the self-proclaimed black sheep of her family, and my free spirited, laisse-faire father and his judgement-free ways shared in the catalyst that formed the lens through which I see the world.
As a kid, my mother had the innate ability to steer a rudderless ship. Even with her eyes closed.
Her guidance provided the perfectly blended combination of suggestive influence and necessary discipline. I presented many challenges yet with the same honor and grace, she helped me find my way.
There is a fine balance between overbearing influence resulting in rebellion, and the subtlety of firm support that steers one down their own path. It was a guided path I felt like I found on my own.
Pure brilliance.
Most certainly a rebuff to his communist roots, my father was the epitome of a non-conformist. He chose a life free of all encumberments – clothes, rules and boundaries among them.
When he moved to Venice, California in the 1970’s the atmosphere, community and countless wayward souls perfectly suited his non-conformist ways. If the antithesis of communist Hungary existed, it was the melting pot in Venice, CA.
My parents blended influence, both in commonality and difference, shaped my attitudes about the values of non-conformity, individuality, inclusion, compassion, respect, and kindness. Collectively, they paved the path to my open minded inclusive ways.
I’m not sure the exact moment in time I fully understood and appreciated the value of their example, I certainly lived it before I knew there was value to be found.
Growing up I didn’t know people thought differently. Our summers on Venice Beach leveled the playing field. So many layers of inequality seemingly equal.
If we are all clones of each other, it would truly suck being bombarded by mirror images all day, every day.
Surely, we agree on that.
Social media, the sensationalized news, and the will of the closed minded jeopardize the value of our collective uniqueness. It is difficult to move about the planet without feeling jaded or apathetic or indifferent when the distant purview = the same old shit.
But, if something has value, it is not an endless resource or the same old shit. Its significance doesn’t dilute rather represents a position or vision of importance. If the color gray is a blend of black and white it is still rooted in the specificity of the individual colors.
If inclusion and acceptance are a blend of you and me, it can still be rooted in our differences. It is subjective and fluid. If we are not clones, our shoes are worn and wear differently.
The ability to walk in some else’s shoes with compassion, empathy and an open minded eye of inclusion is rooted in our differences but thrives in experiences we share in common.
So, what level of difference is accepted? Does that change when the shoes land at your doorstep?
If we are equally entitled to our freedom and independence then shan’t we be able to move about freely?
Respect given is respect gained.
Free to be you and free to be me.
