On the Edge by Shanna Trenholm
I laugh out loud in the strangest places. Last week, I was sitting alone on a metal bench in the middle of a downtown shopping mall reading an essay by David Sedaris when the impulse overtook me. My initial attempt to stifle the laughter, fueled by momentary concern of what others might think, gave way to an audible laugh. And not just a polite little chuckle but an eye-watering I-don’t-give-a-damn-who’s-watching outburst. Instead of feeling self-conscious when the mall-goers’ eyes brushed over me with their judgmental assessments, I felt invigorated.
Lately, and with rising intensity, I am on the edge. On the edge of a clean break with expectations and mores. On the edge of living my truth. I have never been one to color in the lines, but with each new year and major life change I find I get further out of synch with my peers and more in sync with my own path: as a high school drop-out, as a woman without kids, and as a college graduate who marked this milestone well past the age of most college students. This willingness to go against the cultural grain has become my life’s course. Laughing out loud in public spaces is just an outward expression of my inner desire to challenge societal convention.
“My fears of craziness are melting into an acceptance of my inherent eccentricity. And to hell with what the onlookers think.”
At first, when these impulses would strike, I worried that I may be crazy. Worried that my external displays of non-compliance with the rules that make a polite society, well, polite, would mark me as uncultured or simply a nutcase. Fortunately, age and practice has made these thoughts less significant and shorter in duration. Now, I feel quite comfortable with my unique way of doing things. My fears of craziness are melting into an acceptance of my inherent eccentricity. And to hell with what the onlookers think.
Being on the edge of society’s watchful eye is exhilarating. It keeps me present and mindful that the life I am creating is truly my own and ¬not one mandated by a culture that I often feel out of step with. Being on the edge allows me to lean over the precipice and look at the woman I am becoming while remembering the woman I am and have been.
Being on the edge lets me know it’s acceptable to laugh out loud, alone, wherever and whenever I please. After all, in such crazy times as these, it’s a little laughter that keeps me sane.
Shanna Trenholm is a writer, animal lover, eater of dark chocolate, and teller of truths. She finds inspiration in the ordinary; magic in the mundane. She likes to take baths and naps (in that order). Send her some bubble bath here: www.shannatrenholm.com
