What is normal in everyday life has a relatively similar range. A normal day is the same for most people. We get up, go to work or school, come home, eat dinner, perform some chores or participate in some recreational or leisure activities, watch some TV, and go to bed. It may sound boring when you think about it in this way, but it is normal nonetheless; it is the standard. In general, I consider a standard to be something I can rely on, like the brakes on my car—they generally perform as expected. However, normal seems to be much more expansive because, as the list of daily activities shows, there are many things that could be thrown in—or taken out—and the day could still be considered normal. Therefore, normal is, for the most part, what we understand as a range of acceptable behavior under a given set of circumstances.
In order to determine what is normal, I must make comparisons. Then I must make judgments based upon these comparisons. I do this every day. I make these comparisons with little or no detrimental effects to myself or to others. I go about my day ensuring that things go pretty much as planned. The house is still standing, the water for my shower is the proper temperature, the refrigerator has kept things fresh for me so I can make my breakfast, the stove will heat my food if I decide to cook, and my car starts so I can drive to work. Along my daily journey, I make comparisons at many points. If my car didn’t start, it would fall outside the bounds of normal, and my day would be upset to some degree. I would almost automatically take action to bring things back to what I consider normal, and I would do this to regain my expected level of comfort. I like things to be normal for the most part, so I naturally struggle to maintain a level of normalcy in my life.
Who really defines what is normal? For most of my life, I seemed to allow my parents, my teachers, the news media, and others to shape my definition of normal. If I was not allowing others to shape my definition, I certainly was not taking the time or making the effort to discover my own definition. I simply lived with a decision made at some time and place in my past that told me that I was not normal or that I didn’t fit in. This was an extremely unhealthy way for me to look at life. I no longer allow others to define what I believe to be normal, and I have begun to take a serious look at what I perceive as normal.
For example, it is normal for the United States of America to have a president. At one time, I thought it was normal to think that becoming president was a realistically obtainable goal. (While I would have to admit that it is normal to have a president, I must also admit that becoming president is not very normal at all.) As of this writing, the current president is only the forty-fourth person in the history of our country to hold the office. Forty-four people—forty-four men, actually—in more than 230 years is an extremely small number out of the total population of this country, especially when you consider the number of Americans who have lived throughout that time. Hundreds of millions of people have lived their lives in America since it was established as a country, and only forty-four of them have served as president. So, becoming president is not within the normal range of aspirations for most Americans, and never has been in our country’s history. This example is one of many instances in which I used to assume a highly unusual event was actually normal and attainable.
Becoming a star athlete is another useful example. There are very few people who can actually make it to the professional sports level. A similarly small number achieve rock- or movie-star status. Even the number of doctors in this country is relatively low compared to the population in general. Yet there was a time when I believed that achieving any of these careers was practical and attainable—in a word, normal. I cannot explain my former belief. I can tell you that while I now understand that reaching these levels of fame and fortune is possible, I no longer see doing so as “normal.” I now see it as extraordinary, more uncommon than normal. Like climbing one of the world’s great mountains, reaching these positions in life is possible only for a few people, because it is out of the ordinary for people to possess the skills and desires necessary to attain such lofty heights.
What is more normal and more reachable to the average person is more in the mainstream. Most people simply do not have the desire to push themselves to their physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual limits, at least not enough so as to sustain the level of effort required to reach, and maintain, the high level of performance required by the demanding jobs listed above (and the list could be much longer). When I was young, I wanted to be president, or a firefighter, a police officer, or a doctor. I was taught that I could do anything I wanted, and I figured these were all normal things that could happen to me. You may have a similar list of things you wanted to be when you grew up. If you are like me (that is to say, normal), you probably didn’t grow up to be any of the things on your list, either; and that’s okay.
We all know we have to work for the things we want in life, but I did not understand this at first. Just as I used to think that becoming the president, or a doctor, or a firefighter, etc., would “happen” to me, I used to think other things also happened to me. Now I understand cause and effect. I understand that my actions cause what happens in my life, both the good and the bad. But this understanding took some time. Once I fully understood this concept, I could do something about my life, such as change my definition of normal.
It took some time, but I have redefined my understanding of normal. I now believe that everybody defines normal for themselves. Normal, once defined, becomes part of my new belief system, which in turn dictates my actions. My actions will determine the consequences. I have learned that consequences are not always negative. They are simply the next step in the process of life. They are not punishments or rewards; they are perfectly impersonal and just and are perfectly normal.
Quite often I know what the consequences of an action will be before I act. If I fail to put gasoline in my car I will eventually become stranded in a place where I do not want to be. I know if I put my trash out on trash day, it will “magically disappear” and I won’t have to put up with the smell of rotting garbage. I know these things. They are part of life. Every day is full of things that happen very naturally—very normally. You could say that recurrence is what defines my new normal.
I now include myself in my new definition of normal. What a concept! Everybody else is just as normal as I am today. I came to this new definition by simply looking deeply into who I am, what I like and dislike, what I want and need, and how I look, think, act and feel, and have decided to include me in what I believe to be normal.
Since I have come to the conclusion that I am normal, what does that make everyone else? I now believe that everyone is normal in his or her own way. We all have talents, abilities, character defects, and shortcomings. Everyone acts a little goofy from time to time. What’s the big deal? After all, if I can be normal, anybody can be normal. To those whose achievements make them seem like they are “above” normal, like those listed above, I now give the title of “extraordinary” or “exceptional.” This is a very simple way to be inclusive. No one is actually above or below normal; some people simply scale greater heights. I thank God for every one of the exceptional or extraordinary people in our world. These extraordinary people gave me electricity, fast transportation (on and off the ground), refrigeration, and all the modern conveniences I rely on today. However, just because these people reach heights I have neither attained nor wish to reach, they are not any more or less normal than I am. They still have to sleep, eat, drink, wear clothes, shave, shower, brush their teeth, and so on. When I boil it all down, we have much more in common than not. They are simply normal people who have achieved extraordinary accomplishments. If I continued to spend my time and energy getting drunk or high, I would not be able to achieve anything extraordinary. As my life improves, extraordinary can become more ordinary. Extraordinary can become normal. Wouldn’t it be great if everyone were extraordinary? Well, maybe everyone is.
If everyone is normal—including extraordinary and exceptional people—then anyone can be normal. Understanding this, I simply cannot exclude myself from my growing list of normal people, and neither should you. The extraordinary and exceptional people are normal, too, and without them we would have no presidents,