Out of body. And possibly out of mind as well… That’s what it feels like.
And, well. No. I’m not, neither of them. But I am definitely keen on heading home, that’s for sure. While going through security at Heathrow on Sunday, for my fourth flight in eight days I had a hard time to stay focused, and for a while there, I was having a deja-vu feeling of being in Düsseldorf on my way home after the Summit for Human Potential Realisation.
Not so, of course. I’m flying home with my 16 other choir members and our conductor Jens after our UK tour. And oh how I long for home right now (as I am writing this, on the plane).
I want to sleep in my own bed. Next to my husband, snuggle up close and breathe him in. Hug the children. Sit down with them all to dinner, hearing about their ongoings this past week. Have a green smoothie in the morning, and a bowl of fruit with yoghurt for lunch. Let the chickens out of the coop in the morning, and take a stroll out into the garden later on in the day, checking for freshly lain eggs.
As I write, the out-of-body-sensation starts to creep up on me again, as I dream myself away into my ordinary everyday life at home… the smells, sounds, sensations. The daily chores of housekeeping. I even long for the task of hanging and folding some laundry. So maybe, I have gone out of my mind after all?
Julia talks about having something worthy to give our lives to and deconstructs the word extraordinary in a great way:
I really do see so much in people, this desire to have something worthy of giving our lives to, because we give our lives to so much that really is not worthy of it. And I think even if people are not completely conscious of that, their spirits, their hearts, their souls feel it. And that is why we turn to self-medicating and numbing ourselves with shopping, over consumption, movies, television, drugs, alcohol, and all these things we do. Because there is something deep within us, even if we do not recognize it and cannot name it, that wants to have something worth giving our lives to. So there’s something powerful about that arc of what takes ordinary and makes it become extraordinary.
I tell people the only thing ”extraordinary” means is ”extra ordinary”. Extraordinary people are ordinary people who come up against something that calls out their greatness. And they choose to say ”yes” to that calling even if they do not know where it is going to lead them or how it is going to end, but they cannot choose to walk away. I call it the choiceless choice—that we could choose to not say anything. We could choose to walk away. But to do that would kill off a piece of ourselves. So even though we could say no, we have to say yes. And there is something about having something deeply meaningful to say yes to, to give our lives to.
There is something quite liberating in the deconstruction of the word extraordinary into extra ordinary. Sometimes I think the fear of not being extraordinary makes people doubt that they have something to give to the world, that their gifts are not good enough. I disagree with that. I think a few extra doses of ordinariness is just what the world needs. What’s your ordinary gift to the world?