The Myth of Normal

Being normal is a bullshit idea that keeps people from living their authentic lives.

I know that sounds harsh. But stay with me.

Normal is safe.

Normal is comfortable.

Normal is a box with clearly marked edges and a predictable interior.

It's an easy way for society to identify you, categorize you, control you.

And we've been trading our souls for that safety.

The Exchange for Safety

Our ancestors sought safety from literal death.

Tigers.

Starvation.

Exposure.

The rules they created served survival in its most primal form.

But somewhere along the way, we twisted that survival instinct into something else entirely.

We created safety for our egos.

Safety from rejection.

Safety from standing out.

Safety from being truly seen.

The guidelines that once protected us from death now protect us from life itself.

The Walking Dead

So what happens now?

Instead of dying when your life actually ends, you die while you're still walking.

You die when you choose to live by guidelines you have no tether to. When you unconsciously become the enforcer of rules you never created. When you wake up one day and realize you've become obedient to the very system that enslaves you.

In a society that's exchanged safety for authenticity, this is rampant everywhere.

Men who've traded their wildness for acceptance.

Women who've silenced their intuition for approval.

People who've given away their sovereign, unique lifeforce energy in the name of belonging.

And for what? To fit into a mold that was never designed for your particular shape of being human?

My Story

Do you know why this is my work?

As someone who grew up in a conservative household in a conservative part of Los Angeles, illegally for most of his life, I fed myself the poison of normal and experienced its effect firsthand.

I couldn't drive.

I couldn't work.

I could barely go to school.

I was told that I was safe if I blended in.

If I hid.

And I did.

I'd go to school, come home, and stay in for most of my days.

Being seen by others, unless it was absolutely necessary, was crucial to my and my family's survival.

And sure, we survived.

But, most of us had already died.

My dad with his multiple heart attacks.

Violent outbursts almost every night.

Unacknowledged depression.

Fidgeting anxiety.

Through all of this, I graduated.

Got a job.

Created even more of the safety.

But, dying inside.

I consider myself lucky, because at some point, I said "Fuck it. What do I have to lose?"

And I stepped out of the box that I grew up in.

And for the last ten years, I've lived a life that's been anything but normal.

I've drowned.

I've flown out of the sky.

I've joined the military.

I've left the military.

I've been to Burning Man.

I've been deprted.

I've been married.

I've been divorced.

I've moved countries.

I've been the first person to visit the base of one of the highest mountains in South America with my old passport.

Some of my decisions didn't turn out as I expected, but that's what happens when you put yourself out on a ledge and try to live an authentic life.

There's no script.

You follow the call of the Beloved, and trust.

You figure it along the way.

And you live long enough to write a book about your life.

The Unconscious Betrayal

The most insidious part isn't that we follow these guidelines. It's that we become their guardians.

We police ourselves.

We police others.

We've internalized the very system that suppresses our ability to feel like ourselves.

We become the wardens of our own prisons.

You know this feeling. That moment when you realize you're living someone else's life. When you catch yourself repeating phrases that aren't yours, pursuing goals that don't ignite you, playing roles that feel like costumes you can't take off.

That's the moment you realize how easy it is to become complicit in your own diminishment.

The Path Away from Normal

Don't get me wrong - society needs certain guidelines and principles. We can't all be anarchists burning down the structures that hold civilization together.

But when those guidelines start to mass suppress your ability to feel like yourself, it's time to question everything.

When you begin to realize that you've unconsciously become the enforcer of rules that diminish your humanity, it's time to reclaim your authority over your own life.

Our Possible Gift to Our Ancestors and Descendants

The best thing our generation can do is simple: think for ourselves. Be ourselves.

Not in some selfish, fuck-everyone-else way. But in the deep, courageous way that honors our unique contribution to this world.

Maybe that creates guidelines for future generations that are more empowering, more generative.

Maybe our children won't have to choose between safety and authenticity.

Maybe they won't have to die while they're still walking.

But it starts with us. It starts with the recognition that you are not normal. And every day, you get to choose to be you.

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The question isn't whether you'll conform or rebel. The question is whether you'll live as yourself or as someone else's idea of who you should be.

Your authentic life - messy, unpredictable, and gloriously yours - is waiting on the other side of normal.

The only question is: are you ready to stop being safe and start being real?

What guidelines are you ready to question?

What version of "normal" are you ready to outgrow?

I'd love to hear what authenticity looks like for you.

Simply reply to this email.

If this resonates, please share it with someone who might need permission to stop being normal and start being themselves.

Choosing the messy path with you,

Ish

P.S. If you're ready to explore what your authentic life actually looks like beyond society's expectations, I'm opening a few spots in my men's intensive program. We dive deep into reclaiming your sovereignty from the systems that have been living your life for you. And then we go to Peru at the end of the year to bury some old stories for good.

P.S. The separation you feel isn't your fault, but ending it is your responsibility. The world needs humans who know they are not separate from love - they are love itself, in form.

🍵 x 🐉