Weirdo

Well, today, I feel like exploring what being a weirdo is like. Yep. What does it mean to be weird? Well, it means that someone is not accepting their perception of you. That’s what it means. And of course, there is the endless stream of people who feel compelled to share with you that they have realized that you are weird, as if by knowing this you will then feel compelled to do something about it or change it. Being weird could mean that you grow up unwanted, and suffer daily terror and physical abuse, with little or no concept of what love is. It could mean that many of the children at your primary school advise you to kill yourself. Maybe being born ‘special’ causes people to tell you repeatedly that the world would be much better off without you, and that they hope you die. Maybe, being weird, one day you come to realize that it doesn’t matter if you are good or evil, because people still won’t accept you, and they will always want you dead and gone, regardless, and that every breath that you take, and every moment that you live, is in total flaming open defiance of what the world wants. . . Maybe being weird causes you to love darkness, and to dig deeply to find unrivaled levels of hate, enough to make you a fit instrument for something really big, and totally evil. Maybe being weird, is like that, sometimes. I know, personally, that I never fit into the majority of humanity. It has nothing to do with attraction, or intentions. . . It’s just part of me, to always be the weird outsider, always be the outlier, and always be the irritating exception to every rule. It’s like a magnetic thing, that pushes me outside the group once a consensus forms. It pushes me into a moon-like orbit, to always reflect something a bit different. I am the spice. I am the catalyst. I seem to always be the horse of a different color. That’s what the stars say about me, and actually that’s how it always plays out in real life too. Now, that may sound horrible, and I suppose it is, if you only choose to focus on just the lack of an ability to ever fit in. But the universe compensates well for any weakness/painful negative, with added strength in other areas. You see, the irony of it all, is that being a very lopsided and weird person, can make you a very valued spiritual chess piece. You may become just as desirable, highly valued, and respected, in say the spirit world, as you might be undesirable, undervalued, and disrespected, and ‘weird’ in this world. Oh yes. But really, being special, or weird, is not quite as wonderful as that might sound. In fact, once you realize, that you might be gifted at something, a whole new set of ethics kicks in to be grappled with. Ethics for extraordinary people, yes. WHO, WHAT, WHEN, WHERE, WHY & HOW? Who should I use this ability to bless? What should I expect in return? When should I use my ability, and when should I take a break from it, if ever? Where should I go to perform? Why can’t someone else do this, instead of me!? And how much time and energy should I devote to using this ability? All just part of the added fun of being weird. Yep. And then there is me. I can’t seem to relate to people who want to be ‘special.’ That just blows me away. I suppose I’ve always been ‘special’ and I just can’t imagine someone ever seriously longing for it. But they do. I see it. I hear it. And it totally weird’s me out. Seriously. I guess it’s like this; if you have it, then you resent it, and if you don’t have it, then you want it. Discontent seems to be everyone’s default state of mind, regardless. So I suppose we would all be much better off learning to accept whatever we have, and maybe appreciate it a little more.

“When green is all there is to be It could make you wonder why But, why wonder, why wonder? I am green and it'll do fine It's beautiful and I think it's what I want to be” Kermit the Frog

Besides, if being weird means that you never have to worry about ever being stylish, because no matter what you wear, you’re never going to be accepted anyway – then you’re always free to wear loose comfortable shoes, right? But I personally find it quite humorously ironic, that Creator repeatedly gives out some of the most extraordinary abilities to people who are perpetual outsiders and who seem to fit into the world the least! After all, who hides the best Easter eggs the farthest away from center? Who puts golden tickets in the chocolate bars that have misprinted labels? Why ever would you gift your best to the most humble, unless you just want to make people streeeeeetch themselves, and then reward them for doing it? It totally flies in the face of conformity. . . Like, maybe we aren’t all supposed to conform and be only one same boring flavor? Which reminds me, one of the most important things that Astrology taught me, was a little humility and acceptance of the created balance built into personalities. Not that we are each balanced, no no no, nor that we should be, ever, but that everyone has their own fair set of weaknesses and strengths. Yeah. If you’ve never seen that before, laid out in black and white, it can be a real revelation to see how much random fairness is built into Creator’s birthing system, where personality is concerned. I used to wonder, for instance, why more people were not more humanitarian, like me. I was convinced everyone should be, and that I must be better than most people by being so humanitarian. Nope. I’m just an Aquarius, and I was bent that way when I was created. It’s my job to be humanitarian; I’m supposed to be that way. I’m naturally inclined toward it. It doesn’t actually make me better than anybody, really. I just never knew that before. Lol. And I have a friend, for example, who is Sagittarius, and she wonders all the time "what is wrong with people?" Why don’t they have as much personal confidence as she has? But she’s a Sagittarius; it’s her thing to have truckloads of confidence and to be aggressively trotting about. People are just different, and they are obviously supposed to be that way. And , you know, if you believe the parable of the widow’s mite, and that God cares about a tiny mite given by a poor widow, more than God cares about a bank full of cash from someone very wealthy, then it is probably those things that I do that I am NOT naturally inclined to do, - things that I might struggle at – like becoming more public, or personal sharing, that likely count for far more, when I can bare to do them, than all of the things that I can do easily just because I’m richly blessed in those areas, right? . . . I mean, it may never seem like much, and it may never be noticed or heralded by anybody, but for me personally, maybe it is quite something really, to do a thing that I don’t do easily, something weird to me, that I am not naturally inclined to do. Weird, isn’t it?