I don’t know a whole lot in life.
Honestly, I think I realize a little more every day just how little I do actually know. On that list of facts of which I am confident, at least fifty percent can be argued to be opinion.
I know that Alabama football is the eighth wonder of the world. I know that love always wins. I know that dolphins are certainly the coolest animals in existence. I know that forgiveness always brings freedom. I know that country two stepping is the most fun and expressive form of dancing. I know that the darker it is in a room, the brighter a light will shine. I know that Sriracha makes everything taste better. I know that if you can see a rainbow, the sun is always behind you. I know coffee can brighten any bad day. I know that for most of you, fifty percent of this is not true.
My normal is disorder to most of the world. As said by the famous Adam’s family queen, Morticia Adams, “What is normal to the spider is chaos to the fly.”
So Spider comes along and he’s like, “Oh hey, I feel sort of hungry. Momma taught me that when I am hungry, I build a web and catch dinner, so that’s just what I am going to do. Nothing unusual, just a little dinner prep.”
Spider builds a web. He doesn’t think anything of it, because for him, it’s simply the normal thing. He works hard for a while, then takes eight little steps back and approves of what he sees. He carries on with his afternoon crawling, with a little bit of playing somewhere in the middle, knowing that he’ll check back in with his web of an oven and the food will be ready.
Meanwhile, Fly is hanging out, getting bored with the view from the window. He decides he will go on a new adventure. Maybe he will find something totally fresh and exciting. He is a little afraid of leaving the window, but after some intentional thought on the matter, he decides that the risk involved with a new adventure is worth taking.
He tells a few friends and off he goes. The journey is exciting and he is totally stoked. Just as he passes a strange contraption the humans call “vase,” he sees a new window. “Oh, that looks like it must have such a nice view,” he says. Just as he decides to check it out, he sees something glistening in the light opposite the window. As much as he wants to see that view, he simply can’t pass up the opportunity of exploring the shiny matter. “I just know I’ll be distracted from the view if I don’t check it out first.”
Suddenly, things are not exciting anymore. Fly is stuck. He is crying for his friends but they can’t hear him. He begins to weep, as he recognizes the state of chaos in which he has found himself. “How will I ever escape this? What have I done to myself?” These are the thoughts churning in his little fly brain.
Spider peaks his head around the corner and calmly states, “oh, great, dinner is ready.”
What was a perfect storm for poor Fly was entirely ordinary for the fortunate Spider.
The outcome? We don’t know. Maybe Fly escaped and wrote it off as a great adventure for the books, and stuck his newly discovered information in his belt of knowledge for future reference. Either way, the chaos he discovered was everything but that to Spider.
Now, I know this could be argued. That’s why I so confidently stated for a fact that I don’t know much and most of what I know is opinion.
Any one person’s “normal” may seem entirely outrageous to any other person walking by at random.
The thing is, we know nothing beyond what we know, until we know it. Most often, when we discover something outside of our own personally crafted normal, we see it as complete disarray. Often times, these discoveries are a labyrinth to us, but to the one has long known, there is nothing about it that suggests entanglement.
So Fly didn’t know about Spider, until he found out. Unfortunately, in the midst of his own journey, he discovered the creature called Spider and the world that Spider was so accustomed to. It was, in fact, a labyrinth for Fly. Spider, on the other hand, did not think twice about the matter. He was hungry, and he had a solution.
So what’s the point?
I believe (this is my opinion) that the more we can acknowledge how little we know, the better off we will be. The world is so intricate, and what we know is a small fraction of what exists to be known. If we live in such a way that we think our personally crafted normal is the only way, we will most certainly experience a great deal of pain and chaos and commotion.
If we assume a posture of humility, recognizing how little we truly know, the chaos of the world outside and its crafted normal may do less damage on our fragile hearts as we are challenged beyond our normal.