The Exceptional Life

The

EXCEPTIONAL LIFE

By: Gretchen Roach

Tasting Truth:

When I was a small child I had deep secrets. I grew into my world like most do, adapting as I morphed into adulthood. Children watch, all children are natural watchers, they observe the direction of people’s reactions to things and adjust their true selves accordingly. I have seen it as an adult in my students repeatedly, mainly because I knew to look. I am rather good at reading faces. A talent I have developed over the course of my life. Something that “evolved” more out of necessity than anything, but it has served me well in my childhood, and adulthood. I can tell when someone is lying, scared or being a jackass. (Beg Pardon to the animal kingdom for the comparison.) The latter part came because of my early years in the realm of public education. So, as a little kid, I could tell when a certain secret should be kept based on the way people looked when it was revealed in another set of circumstances.

 You know what I am talking about, the way a person says one thing with words and another with his/her body. Like when someone’s mother-in-law asks how to do you like her liver worse and you tell her,” it’s great!” She gives you a funny look because you look like you swallowed a hot poker. Secretly, she knows you hate it, you know you hate it, but everyone pretends to like it. It is the conversation above the conversation, a person could even say it is the actual conversation. Your intention was to be kind, polite- socially correct, but you are still a BIG FAT LIAR.

Little white lies are meant to keep the peace, maintain social balance, adhere to what social conventions approve as acceptable deceptions to serve the greater good. The greater good being social conventionality or no loud conversations ending in gunfire. They are inherent to our nature, they are nurtured by our education and inventions of the world in which we desire to thrive, otherwise, we become those unfortunate vagabonds left outside – called unpolitic- or undesirables.

But, children are not born with the desire to conform. They say,” This stinks.” When something stinks- be it expensive cheese or someone’s body odor. They have not learned artifice. We learn it as we grow. We feel the force of expectations either physical or emotional that mold our personalities, as much as our will, to survive this world we have arrived in and we watch, wait and slowly shift our actions. There are exceptions, people that are forced into dramatic situations- early in life. This, of course, countermands the natural order of things, making those children so adept at deliberate deceit to place them in a counterculture all their own- often these children are considered too hard to handle (because they often are in the practical sense). Often, they are the result of intense tragedy or trauma. They realize that to survive in a world where things that are false are often treated as sacrosanct you must play along to be considered ‘safe.’ Dunbar and Shakespeare alike defined it as 'wearing the mask.' So, the mask stays on and we can play our parts…to take the mask off and you must be alone- redefined. No one wishes to be a child and be alone. And pain can often compel us to create even more elaborate masks than most. And who looks for a mask of this caliber on a child? So these children often form their own "collective' on the outer banks for survival sake, drifting in and out of the "reality" that has made their experience and voice almost mute. This is why when they wish to be heard they often speak within roars, or in flames of anger and frustration. Often their legacy becomes this mask of pain and rejection. It doesn't have to be this way. Nothing is stone, only convention.

Perspective:

Pain gives its own perspective on most matters. Some people feel more enlightened, still, others dwell in a darker place than ever…as children when we suffer we grow into ourselves knowing about suffering differently than when it falls on us as an adult. Like gravity water over tap water- the taste of grief is much clearer as a child than that of grief filtered through a life of experience, the choke of death, or dealing with chronic suffering is a sense more than a moment to survive. Pain is sustainable. It is something carried, like the color of your eyes, or the smell of a memory. It is a deeper secret that is more real than any monster that under the bed, and as loud as any cacophony of crickets that sings out in Appalachia. It is simply the taste of their child’s self. IT is not all of it, but it is a big part. A child with dark secrets is an unnatural thing and when you look into a child’s eyes who have suffered deep sorrow, they project a look that is a deeply lost, almost hollow, and strangely aware at once, as though the depth they must climb to achieve light is so long only part of them escapes out each time they must make the climb from the deeper realm. As a result, it forces them to be contrary to the essence of what it means to be a child- clear like water. they are silent, or too loud, too abrupt, or too motionless- whatever their reflection of their understandings cannot fathom why they cannot simply "pretend" and "respond." When it takes good energy just to stand still and simply be present. To ask more with no offer of a ladder into the light, or true depth reach into their wells of sorrow is true narcissism in its lowest form. Ask any adult who was one of these children and they will tell you, they felt like observers more than participators of the realm of the ordinary; mainly because they realized they would never be ordinary in any real sense of their understanding of what it meant.

Sanctuary:

Sanctuary for a child comprises two main places home and school. These two spheres generate the waning and waking moments of most children’s lives, adults would like to believe that they are a cocoon that embraces their children, forgetting their own school histories agony and ecstasy. It is a memory white lie that allows people to send their most precious possessions to the care of strangers and hope that whatever happens their children manage to come out of it stronger, positive and in the long run-able to deal with life with dignity and decorum- the social circle of Life. But at its heart parents want the best they can give their children – what is has always been is the deeper root question.

The exception to the rule:

For me, In the 80’s and 90’s the teachers ignored me, from time to time a teacher would notice me either for exceptionality or just for some exception. Sometimes it was positive and sometimes not but as a rule, I never felt safe enough to share my secrets.

I would never tell any of them, for instance, that I was “blacking out” or and I had no idea how to articulate that Math appeared like Egyptian Hieroglyphics. So, I tried my best to be unnoticed, as much as my personality would let me, and stay silently unexceptional. Once I saw a classmate have a seizure and heard how the teachers talked about how awful he was…I went into the bathroom and hid. After that, I never thought of speaking about my secrets. I learned that the worst part of secrets is how much they keep us apart. I would never feel accepted, and even though it was as much my own inaction, as anything that I saw, I knew that if I revealed my exceptionalism I would never be a part of the world that seemed to be the ONLY world that mattered in the other half of my sanctuaries. So, I stayed silent. Silence can be the biggest lie of all.

I made it through my first sanctuary called the public school with no great reveal, mainly because no one was looking, and at age 14 years with no one the wiser and for no reason, my seizure problem stopped for a while. Later, they came back…worse, less able to conceal. I graduated college, received my masters. I began to believe after a childhood of miseducation (I thought) that I could allow people into that place I had kept separate. But, people need to believe that the world never deviates from their own experience and understanding. Throughout the history of humankind when faced with things that defy their comprehension of challenge their sense of how the world should be humankind tend to suppress, even obliterate the thing that challenges their sense of safety, no matter how malevolent their actions.

Exceptions:

When my exceptionality reappeared my life, as it was constructed, unraveled as fast as a kitten playing with a broken string. Everything I dreaded about people’s reactions came to pass. Relatives masked faces “pretending” and avoiding at once, colleagues who used my abilities and inabilities to envelope their own careers; considering the faces and seeing the “liverwurst” face again and again knowing that no matter the words, the intention would always be a distance at best and at worst a complete dissection of my life. I felt if my secret was a secret I was safe. The biggest lies we tell are often to ourselves. As I grew sicker, it was no longer something I could hide from others or from myself – I would live an exceptional life whether I wanted to or not. My existence would force people to confront aspects of life they did not wish to acknowledge, or accept as true, or adapt within their nifty safety zones of acceptable habits and moral turpitude. So, to know me is to react to my life. My life is bare, no mask. It was taken from me long ago the first time my consciousness left and abruptly returned to me a world of faces filled with revulsion, despair, and sadness. I am sorry for them all, but I am who I am. I learned the value of a life lived in the raw, the promise in childlike honesty. All Honesty is costly. It can cost everything. Childlike honesty is the truth with no forethought to deception. I aspire to be braver, but for now, I settle for grasping for Truth because I know it is all that is real. All that is worth fighting the demons in mind and body to overcome in the end. The whispers that inspire others to turn away from me in what they perceive my weakest moments I know to be the moments that I have overcome the most.

Prejudice:

We call this form of rejection “Prejudice, “although to call it by name is make many who consider their minds or hearts enlightened by time and education to greater heights than the reduction of their souls to fear and self-doubt. Again, the conversation within the conversation emerges. There is what we say; what we mean, and finally what we are actually saying.

Prejudice is not a socially acceptable behavior on the outside. No one wakes up and thinks,” Today, I am going to behave in an overtly egregious, deceptive and often malicious manner towards someone because he or she has an otherness that makes them separate from my perspective so to protect my life, my values or conception of what is real I will act in a manner that is unfair or egregious.”

No, it begins with that little White Lie that subtly weaves its way into our lives somewhere between Kindergarten and our first cup of coffee at the workstation. That we must be a certain way, no matter what, or who, or why; the apathetic acceptance that is the way it is and we are just that way. So, the greater conversation gets lost in commerce, the deeper secrets are buried deeper, and our special roots rot. Decay can begin with the tiny laugh we give at the dirty joke that initially makes us uncomfortable. How certain persons are avoided because they have a “condition” but moral balance can be supported by simply donating on the social network for our actions, or praying a prayer to God so He can deal with them for us. He made them the way they are, we did not, so who are we to judge.

Prejudice is much more devious than a layer of skin. It is the GREAT LIE that whispers in your ear telling you acceptability is a moral decision based on social constraints. These constraints forever flouting the fact that social constructs are individual decisions placed in the context of who is most like another. A math equation- the voter’s booth of amoral absolutes. And I, myself, always stunk at Arithmetic.

We were never meant to be collections of similar, but to be ourselves- our best selves. Yet, we take more comfort being mediocre others, hiding in the crowd, too afraid of what it would mean to see what we would see if we just let people be themselves. We are not a set of social constructions but as much as we try, as great as we fear to be alone. The more we lie, the less strive for genuine goodness- the less good we are. We were meant to be good, kind, moral, creative, filled with hope and love. What we were meant to be is alone, judged, or devalued by each other simply because we do not like the way the conversation is going.

Some of deepest struggles with non-conformity are those in places of faith. It is illogical and debasing to believe that goodness and Absolute Truth do not have a home where all can go for comfort and support regardless of their needs. They must. But Presuppositions and Prejudice are the monsters that tear down belief brick by brick as it looks at a person in need but cannot reconcile this person and their life with the personal fear and self-doubt that guard the gates of many places of faith. It is for this very reason that we are told that we cannot be the sifters that decide acceptance at the table of God’s Grace.

 Some people of faith can look at the others- the EXCEPTIONALS- and see past their own fears to know that despite their own sins, that God’s purpose in creating a “Sanctuary” at all was to allow us a place to go to lift each other up, a place where no stone can penetrate, and only love can really survive. Because it knows without Love – the real love of God- it is just a building- like a bank or a restaurant. God did not give a menu but a book- he gave us his Son, not his hatred and scorn…and if nothing else His son made it clear he did not tolerate prejudice. No lie can offer true enlightenment to anyone who truly meant to join the REAL CONVERSATION.

So how do we change…We start by speaking what we are saying anyway…we start by voicing our fears, our losses…our secrets. Ripping off the masks we wear and saying here I am in all my honesty. It does not make us moral, or even good, but it does make us real. It requires bravery and perspective, personal honor, and the ability to acknowledge our own wrongs. We have faith enough to believe that what God sees in us we might find each other if we stop avoiding our differences and start trying to love one another for who we really are- we might even learn to love ourselves a little bit. After all, we are not a collection. We are all EXCEPTIONALS. God made us be ourselves and he never makes mistakes.

GOD BLESS. GOOD LUCK TO US ALL.

In Christ,

Gretchen Roach

Daughter, Sister, Christian, Friend, Artist, Writer, Teacher, Epileptic, and Other Things As They Occur To Me…

2And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God. 3For I say, through the grace given unto me, to every man that is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think; but to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith. 4For as we have many members in one body, and all members have not the same office: 5So we, being many, are one body in Christ, and every one members one of another. 6Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, whether prophecy, let us prophesy according to the proportion of faith; 7Or ministry, let us wait on our ministering: or he that teacheth, on teaching; 8Or he that exhorteth, on exhortation: he that giveth, let him do it with simplicity; he that ruleth, with diligence; he that sheweth mercy, with cheerfulness. (Romans 12)

Dunbar, Paul Laurence. "poetryfoundation.org." https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems. Website. 24 September 2017.

Shakespeare, William. "poetryfoundation.org." Sonnet 138