In New York city sooner than in other places you give up on searching for what is normal. Some people, though, still try, because most of us grew up like this, categorizing reality and people around us by normal and not so normal.
Joe and I went to Central Park on one Sunday afternoon to watch the spring blooming. In the meantime we were discussing different peoples’ behaviors, and I told him a story about one of my friends from Bali. After the story finished Joe asked me –
“Do you have any normal friends in your circle?”
It somehow felt offensive, but I kept my composure, and asked him back –
“Define normal.”
Joe thought a little and decided at first, that normal means having a 9 to 5 job. That was interesting. I stated that I do not have any normal friends, apart from him, and I smiled.
“People who work in a 9 to 5 job, usually have different state of mind and values from me, so, no, I don’t have many other people apart from you. But do you really think this defines being normal?”
Was Joe this close-minded? I got a little scared, because I started to like him. I thought he had his pleasant, normal side to him, and also this less normal one. I liked them both. But does he think that people who have different work schedules than him are abnormal? This makes me abnormal. If so, then does he like it? And should I feel offended or take it as a compliment? I was confused.
“Do you really think that the style you work defines your normality?”
He didn’t feel comfortable with this definition himself –
“Alright, I want to change my definition. Being normal means that you have a drama-free life.” He proudly articulated.
“Oh really?! Do you know any drama-free life? Some people are lost, some people are in pain, some people are single; there are thousand and one types of human dramas out there! The existence itself is a pretty dramatic act! And you yourself, you didn’t have someone to love for the past few years, and before that your girlfriend married another man while still being with you, I had an impression that those were pretty dramatic experiences for you. Am I wrong?”
It is easy to judge someone else’s drama while your drama is just another experience. Joe admitted that he had his fair share of dramas, and that’s right, no one really is drama-free.
“What else is normal then? If not only 9 to 5 people can be called normal, and everyone goes through some dramas now and then, what should define normality? Having two kids and a two-bedroom apartment? Having two arms and two legs? Having a certain degree or hobby? This all sounds quite superficial to me. I think if I ask someone how they define normal, and they say, normal doesn’t exist – I feel they are normal if anyone.”
Joe nodded. We had an agreement there. I asked him then,
“So, do you consider me normal?”
Joe was silent for a moment. Then he said a firm “no.”
“Alright…” I kind of already knew I am not on the list of Joe’s normals.
“At first, I thought, I really felt you are quite a normal person. You are actually the most normal I know, but then, people who I like are usually not-normal. So, I guess, I have to say you are not.”
We reached the 90th street on the left side of the park, and agreed not only upon the normality doesn’t exist, but also that we will stop somewhere for a coffee, or tea, or wine, or whatever else two abnormal people are having on the Sunday evening after feeding squirrels and having a dramatic discussion with a quite normal happy ending.
Today I met myself having all abnormal friends. And this is how I like them.
