I want to take back normal.

What is normal?

In a barrage of “what about” isms and double speak, is it becoming normal to accept hatred, bigotry and lies . It is becoming normal to perpetrate violence and destroy common bonds. It is becoming normal to view humanity in us -vs- them terms and deny truth exists. We can argue about the reasons why and when this all started, but the reality is – we can’t let this current rush toward the worst of ourselves continue.

I was never a fan of normal.

I used to view normal as boring, constricting, restricting, and lazy. It could even be destructive. I thought that people who could not be clever, bold, creative, fair, and exciting chose the easy route – normal. That was when normal was heading in the direction of, and perhaps making progress toward, important ideals. That was when our imperfect normal was still trying to solve issues like racial violence, climate change, and economic injustice. That was when normal meant building a world where our children learn about kindness and honesty by our example. I took for granted that those ideals were not truly the heart of everyone’s aspirations. My privilege allowed me to.

Right now, all rose colored glasses are off and all wounds are laid bare.

What do we do right now to reclaim normal? Can we make a new normal even more loving than any normal we have ever known? That is my hope. What would that better normal look like? I want to set my sights there, rather than perform an autopsy on a normal that was better than what we currently have, but painful for too many. I want to set my eyes toward a definition of normal in which accountability and responsibility are the ground beneath normal’s feet. A new normal would value our interdependence. A new normal would not celebrate greed. A new normal would not separate peace from justice. A new normal would let truth be truth.

I take solace in old trees.

Old trees define the normal I want to know. They rely on their roots and fertile ground to survive. That feels normal to me. (It is not lost on me that the synagogue where innocent worshippers were murdered is the Tree of Life.) They embody wisdom that speaks of learning lessons over generations and history. They tell stories. When a tree falls, it is possible to read the seasons that tree has known. I want wisdom and knowing our stories to be the new normal. Call me crazy, but I think trees are optimistic. They grow toward the sky, weather storms, and hold a strong center.  I want that to be normal, too.