Resisting the abnormal becoming normal

In a world where ageing is regarded as something you should hide or be ashamed of, it's the one thing that allows one a much wider frame of reference and a much better perspective on the state of the world at present.

Wherever I go, I find that behaviour that was previously regarded as unacceptable - and sometimes even illegal - has become the order of the day. Depending on whose company I find myself in, I could open myself to ridicule when I verbalise these observations. People have the strangest ways of justifying the shortcuts they take. One minute they're preaching to you about how religious they are and the next they're bragging about getting away with not having paid for something they should've paid for.  

On the roads, I feel like I'm going to explode, as one driver after the other engages in dangerous and illegal stunts that often come close to causing accidents. I have learnt to drive defensively, always expecting someone to change lanes without indicating, jump a red light, or aggressively tailgate me when I can't get out of the lane I'm in. It's really stressful, and I find myself swearing a lot. Not a good example to my daughter, who's currently preparing to do her learner's licence test.

The world seems to be dominated by a Me-first attitude, and I think it's a twisted interpretation of confidence. There's a big difference between confidence and arrogance. And between assertiveness and arrogance. I am surrounded by arrogance, wherever I go. People acquire titles and status, as a result of their jobs, then start to behave like they own the people with lower ranks. That's so wrong. Unfortunately, the weak economy, with job scarcity, feeds this authoritarian system, because the people who are not in the upper ranks fear speaking out, lest they find themselves unemployed. Capitalism is unashamedly consistent and self-perpetuating.

And so the choirmasters of the corporate world, batons held dramatically above their heads, conduct their obsequious choirs, and no matter what is written in the sheet music, the songs all have the same themes - acquiescence, subservience, docility, timidity, fear, passivity. And each song ends in the same unsurprising silence.    

The atrocious conduct that parades as leadership is sickening. It seems like the only examples for younger people to learn from are so steeped in corruption that what was once abnormal and frowned upon, is not only viewed as normal, but heralded as exemplary and the epitome of success.

In a previous job, someone who held a slightly higher rank than I spoke to me disrespectfully, in the presence of our superior. I was really taken aback by her rudeness, but I chose not to confront her then, as it didn't need an audience. Instead, I went home and wrote an e-mail to her. In it, I said that while she outranked me in the workplace, in the bigger picture of life, we were both just people in the vast universe, and there was nothing that gave her authority to treat me the way she had. Confirming her level of maturity, she showed the e-mail to all her colleagues and I became persona non grata,  maligned and ignored. It became so unpleasant that I left the job. Of course I left after finding a new job, but the bitchiness I'd experienced played a major role in my decision to leave. 

Over and over again, life has shown me that when you take a principled stand, you can become really unpopular. And when you're unpopular in a context of small-minded, immature people, you could very quickly be marginalised. This year, I once again was confronted by another disturbing reality - a toxic person who is able to convincingly lie and manipulate others to turn against someone who has stood up to their deceitfulness. The destruction that these people wreak can be catastrophic.  

In total contrast, I have an inner circle, of people I trust. This is a small group, but its members have remained over decades. The most beautiful thing about these people - many of whom have never met - is that they have been consistently decent and dependable, honest and unafraid to speak truth to power. They have also had  difficult journeys within brutal and hierarchical structures that don't honour the individual. My heart soars with happiness everytime I hear that someone has found an alternative to that soul-destroying world, and is thriving in a new space.    

I love spending time with people who haven't been tainted by the short-sighted and self-serving toxicity that seems to be ubiquitous. I love who I can be, when I'm with them. I love the way my mind opens and considers possibilities, in their company. I love the feeling of hope and potential I have, after being with them. Most of all, I love hearing how they go about life as people who have made authentic choices and have found peace after distancing themselves from the confines of stifling workplaces and relationships. What fascinates me is that they've embraced who they are, and don't limit themselves. The biggest lesson I've learnt from these people is that you need to love who you are, with all your imperfections, and proceed to live a life that makes sense to you. 

And this, for me, is the most liberating lesson I've learnt: you don't need others' permission to be who you are. You're the only one who can give that permission.

          Doing what I love - rehearsal at Athlone Cultural Hub, in Feb 2019. Photo: André Marais