Existing in the Borderlands
I am at the borderlands, the boundary walker, the liminal space of being, I am the in-between, the interstitial tissue of the world, the estuary, the budding luminance, the not quite here or there-ness, I am beyond the binary, it does not exist where I roam.
Between genders, races, ethnicities, nationalities, sexualities, relationship structures, philosophy… Because of this, non-conformity has become a dear friend. They extend compassionate acceptance when the rest of them do not try to understand when the rest of them stare up at me in bewildered perplexity.
This all rests on a philosophy of knowing there is non-knowing. Skepticism. The skeptics came to believe in suspending judgment because they thought we couldn’t Know anything. There is always the possibility we could be wrong.
Epistemologically, scientifically, and religiously… we could come to a conclusion, only to be thrown into disbelief because of a new experience.
That is why they believed that knowledge can only be observed through direct experiences. Well, Hume believed this. I find this philosophy humbling. It feels rooty. Cozy in between mycelium and root nodules.
So if a new experience could change what we believe to be our truths, then one cannot hold onto what one “Knows” very firmly. That’s why I prefer walking along boundaries.
It offers me the flexibility to be the me-est me.
This is similar (but not quite the same) to the Buddhist philosophy of no-self, anatta. If the self is a collection of experiences or Knowings, then there is no fixed or essential self. Each new moment offers to be discarded or assimilated into our “self”. So it is always changing, never static.
So I continuously question, I doubt everything, and it pushes me toward what is closer to truth. I will avoid claiming anything as the ultimate Truth. I don’t believe it to be real. But then again, it could be. :)
Regardless of knowing the validity of absolute truths, I can come closer to the truest Truth, through observation, analysis, experimentation, meditation, investigation…
The identities I claim have facilitated my ease in existing between definitions. I’m familiar with being undefinable. I am white, but also ethnically ambiguous, American, but much more European in my lifestyle, but also Mexican, I am female but also masculine and sometimes feminine, I can fall in love with someone regardless of their gender, I can be mature but also child-like (not to be confused with child-ish ;) ).
Neat little boxes
I am a slut for compartmentalizing.
I love neat and tidy boxes. I really, really do.
But I’ve realized how futile it is to organize the human spirit. It’s not meant to be categorized, and labeled.
As much as we wish we could do that, it just becomes a mess immediately, because new boxes come flying into the room every second, and then one item has to move to another box, but OH the color of this one Must change, and by the end of the day you’re a tangle of ribbons and markers and paint, a kindergarten project explosion, attempting to organize something that is infinitely dynamic.
So, my room will be tidy, but I don’t wish who I am to be tidy.
I can relax in the comfort of believing I don’t have to pin myself down. I can learn all I can about myself, then let go of believing I can know it all. I wouldn’t want to anyways.
It’s much more fun to live a mystery.
Angry at difference
People get so fired up about their boxes.
It’s scary to meet a person who doesn’t match the labels they’re familiar with. It’s confusing and it breaks a crack in the bookshelf that holds their boxes.
And they like their shelf. It’s pretty and simple and they’re also a slut for all that is neat and tidy. And if the shelf comes down, that can be very very scary, because that means that everything they’ve believed to be Truth is now dubious. Literal world crumbling. Oof. Rough.
It’s much easier to be a blob. Then you’re not so scared shitless when a new kind of blob pops up next to you.
You’re more likely to say “Oh hey new blob, never met one like you before. What’s blob life like for you?” “Oh, it’s a jam.” “Cool. Want to join my blobdom?” “Yeah sure, sounds dope”. And you go on your merry blob way.
There’s no existential crisis. No value judgment, no labeling, no this or that.
It just exists. We just exist. We are. And we change. And it can all exist together.
Whuuuuy ohhu why is that line of thinking so confusing?
Trans people are people. Non-binary people are people. Cis-people are people. Black people are people.
We’re all just people peopleing.