flexibilityness and maggots

So, having just told Jamie about how important I feel it is to stay flexible [and I mean that both physically and spiritually], I will go about clumsily defending my statement. But since it's almost midnight, this will be stream-of-consciousness style, and not terribly well thought-out.

The first thing I'll say is that in my mind, inflexibility goes hand-in-hand with the worst stuffy aspects of adulthood, and with getting old.
And I'll contradict myself later, but for now, I'm going to talk about the negative aspects of being stuck in your ways.
I can't tell you the number of times in my life that I've said to a friend, "Come watch this foreign film... come walking with me in the rain... let's go swimming tonight... try this weird looking pie, it's really good... trust me, I know a much prettier road... how 'bout some camping this weekend!... I LOVE this CD; let me play it for you.... there's an easier way to do that...." And they say, "No, I don't like having to read subtitles... oh, it's too cold... I have to get up early tomorrow... thanks, but I think I'll stick with the peach cobbler... I'd rather go the familiar way, so we don't get lost... I hate sleeping on the ground... no, I'd rather have something else - your music is weird!... well, but I've always done it this way...."

And I tolerantly accomodate their wishes. But deep down, I have to admit that it sorta pisses me off. Because when _they_ say, "I LOVE this CD; let me play it for you!" I say "SURE!" Even if I'm not quite sure. But then I talk myself into it; I think - awesome! First of all, I'll benefit by getting to experience something new, and maybe I'll like it! And secondly, listening to something this person has specifically chosen will give me more insight into what sorts of things they identify with, or are emotionally affected by, which gives me more insight into them. AND insight into the thing itself, and why it's appealing to people. Which is great!

And so it bugs me that, when they say no to _my_ suggestions, not only do I not get to hear the CD I want to listen to, but they're closing themselves off to a new experience. Without a second thought. They're choosing to limit their horizons.

And I don't mean to say that one CD will change a person's life, but when I think back over my own life, it's the times I've had other lifestyles and other viewpoints and unfamiliar ways of doing things thrust under my nose that I've felt my own life expanding; felt my understanding of human nature, and therefore of myself and the people I love, broadening. Whereas the times I've stuck to the known, my world stays small. More comfortable, maybe, but small.

And pretty soon, if you keep only sticking to the familiar, your little box will get tinier and tinier, and then even the common eggroll could start looking suspicious and menacing. What a tragedy!

(Of course, I admit that I make certain exceptions to my try-anything-new rule. Exceptions being: taking drugs, breaking the law, making torches out of cans of hairspray, violence, watching Saw III, animal cruelty, and eating anything that involves maggots or tripe.) (Of course, having already eaten both maggots and tripe, I can hardly say that I'm denying myself a new experience by avoiding them. So I'm safe. At least on that count. Although the maggots I ate were deep-fried. But I don't care what you say - there is NO WAY IN HELL I'm ever going to eat live maggots. At least, on purpose.) (Hmm... maggots always remind me of that scene in The Lost Boys....) Yeah, ok. Ok! I'm done with the maggots!

The flipside to this, of course, is that I've found that the people I'm most drawn to in life are the least flexible ones. The ones who state, stubbornly and unerringly, that they are who they are and that's who they are and ain't nobody gonna change them noway nohow.
And I find that the people who willingly go along with whatever I want to do make me nervous; I suspect them of humoring me. I suspect them of suffering on my behalf. It's disquieting. I'm not used to it. (Which probably means I should spend more time with those people, so I DO get used to it.)

But, yeah, so there's that.

And then there's also the thing where I begin to suspect that too much flexibility leads to a kind of lack of identity. Like, if you don't stand for something, you stand for nothing. Kinda thing. If you know what I mean.
I always think of that Philip Pullman series - the one that they're now making an [inevitably inadequate] movie from - where everyone has a 'daemon'; a sort of animal-familiar that's connected to them, soul-wise. And the kids' daemons can change shape, change animal, but as they get older the daemons stop changing all the time, and stick to being one particular animal.
Or like in the Madeline L'Engle book where the farandolae have to stop dancing madly around, and let themselves Deepen.
You know, like that.
Maybe if you stay too flexible, you don't allow yourself to Deepen. To grow up. To become Someone.
Or maybe that's not true. Maybe staying flexible keeps you alive. Brittle things break.

I don't know for sure. That's the thing about this - the more you do it, the more you see truth in everything, even conflicting opinions, so absolute truths become elusive; judgment seems passé.

So for now, flexibility seems like the way to go. Doing things I don't necessarily feel like doing, and finding the positive in them, seems like the way to go. And I'm trying my damndest to keep it up. It's hard sometimes, a lot of times, but it's worth it. So far.