on not being me

When working chemical dependency units, I always heard talk about the reason moving doesn't help.  You can't leave your problems behind because "where ever you go, there you are".  Twelve step programs have a bunch of those little homilies.  I liked some of them because of that off-guard, "sound of one-hand-clapping" zen thing.

And it is true, if you are the problem, all the moving in the world won't fix it.

But I would like to take a little trip from being me, and don't require a change of geography.  Not just go somewhere no one knows me, by myself, no expectations about who I am or how I am or what I should do and usually do and never do.  That does sound nice, though.

What I really mean is a break from my reality.  A totally new perspective in which I don't have to consciously push aside the wisdom and prejudice of my ancestors, teachers, preachers, past reading, past movie watching, past relationships---you know, everything that came before and created who I am right now?

I'm not at all sure that wouldn't leave me more brain damaged than free.  Who am I without any of that?  a newborn?  an amnesiac?  no one?  I don't know, but I can never truly understand another person through my own life filter.  I can never just do something that I have never done before without all the stuff that kept me from doing it before, weighing on my mind.  If we are talking about a horrible crime, that is good, but what about going to a supper club alone in the evening, never have, my parents never did, and truly didn't think females should go anywhere alone after dark. I have worked many night jobs and made many emergency trips in the dark alone, but never just for entertainment.  It wasn't that I didn't feel safe so much as it seemed "not me".

I have ignored a lot of the prejudices and tried to find the wisdom that was truly worth keeping, but how do any of us ever know for sure that we are basing our lives on current thinking and not just memory loops.  I here the crap I heard as a child, about "the wrong part of town" and the "wrong kind of people", how scary people of other races or cultures or with mental illness, how strange the practices of some people are--eating grubs or pig intestines or monkey brains, while they nibble on their lunch of tamales or lasagne or curry--foods my own father called the foods of "those people".

None of that is real.  People eat--they have to, and people have a religion-or at least beliefs about why they are here--and I think as humans we also have to have that, and we wear clothes, and have rules made to protect the status quo, rules to control the behavior of those not in power.  Rules.  We all have rules.  And they may be good or stupid  or evil or archaic, but they are there, and by being there, we all incorporate them into who we are in some manner.

I knew people that even as small children fight every rule.  Their first word is still dada or mama, the second year it is "no" and then they go straight to "why" and never stop.  As children, they are annoying, but perhaps we all need to keep a little of that.  Why is a good question for just about everything.

So every time I want a break from myself, I try to get a little alone time, and ask myself why until I'm OK with just being me again.  If I do it right, I'm an improved me, with less garbage and more answers than before. And if I'm not truly free of being me, I don't need a neurologist and diapers, either.

Guess I'll save not being me for the next life.