Looking for grace and finding redemption

I used to think that the flow of creation endears itself to the confluence of mutual collaborative happenstance. At least according to my Dungeons and Dragons club, and if you ever sang in a choir or played in a orchestra and band, or acted in a Broadway play on stage you will know how it feels. 

I vividly remember playing the Apostle number nine in a stage production of the then banded 'Jesus Christ Superstar'. Besides featuring on my five most fondest memories the experience led to my first crush, the first time I ever fell in love (hard), acted on lust, broke my heart, and made my debut as a undercover homosexual fetishist with incidental voyeuristic intentions. Besides the rush of the performance and the trill of unbridled arousal there is nothing more I recall of my entire career as a thespian with dreams of stardom and a insatiable sexual appetite. Now that I'm old the details are regrettably lost, but the bittersweet memory of how life feels living well and without a care was apparently the reason for my sojourn. I remember that they were by far and unequivocally some of the best days of my life! The extacy of singing in a mass choir of Handel's Messiah together with 6000 other voices, and thrill of performing with a full Harmonic Orchestra stand a head above shoulder as unforgettable, and the most I can recall is the bow of the Conductor beginning the performance , and standing transfixed, enchanted and exhausted to thunderous applause at the end. 

I used to feel guilty that for much of the best of times I've had I'm at a loss to the facts of my most cherished memories, including who I knew and what occurred. And I used to think that that was just the way I am, a socially awkward introvert with a penchant for disastrous attempts at trying to 'fit in' and conform to convention. 

Whereas the latter is clearly evident from my lifetime of experience it's a consolation to know now that, for the most part my experience is not as much a failure on my part, but justthe way my brain is wired. The way all of our brains are wired as it turns out, except for the 'normal' memory response triggered by emotionally charged experiences. For most of the rest of my neurocognitive functions I believe the rest of my life can attest, and while many may suggest that I'm mentally disabled and conclusively score high on most scales that measure for psychopathy, the truth of the matter bely a deficient Glial cell response rather than a pathological mental malady. I am however pathologically curious, even at my own apparent failures at living up to expectation. Ergo the hindsight of what I believe is a much wider affliction of awareness and why I am kind of sad to have lost what most people live for. The memories of good times shared between friends. 

I used to consider myself dis-disabled in a sense, but decidedly fortunate to know (now) that I'm not the outcast I thought I was, but rather the genetic expression of a evolutionary design adaptation to adapt to the social environment we live in today. A design adaptation I believe is consistent with many of the rising number of mental health deficiencies and babies born with cognitive birth defects, and related to the global pandemic of early onset Dementia, Postpartum Depression, ADHD and Parkinson's, and a slew of other 'modern day' dis-ease we generally believe as 'abnormal'. 

While there's no doubt my own experience at 'coping' with the mental ability I have is a liability in living the life we have fashioned. I know from my own experience that I'm ill equipped to ever become successful, and highly unlikely to 'make it' some day through no fault of my own. Much like many of my peers and the generations that follow me, I am unable to live up to any modern day standards. I am fortunate to know that notwithstanding my genetic makeup I am perfectly able to live life well. 

From a evolutionary perspective our species is increasingly trying to adapt to be better at living life the way its meant to be lived, but despite various genetic adaptations over the last few hundred years we are noticeably, progressively worse off than our ancestors. I'm happy to say that I am better equipped to live life well regardless of disastrous social history, but it behooves me to question convention and challenge the beliefs we hold about meaning and our reason for being. As much as it may seem like it's me I have recently pieced together the disparities between those who have and us missing out. 

As it turns out to be more than my own personal opinion but backed by the experience of people all over the world who are trying to make a living in these trying times, the fact that mounting proof support the need for us to change our destiny makes me believe that womanity is more than capable of making the changes we need to save ourselves from extinction. For the sake of all of us I hope that we come to the realization sooner rather than later. 

Besides, it would be nice to know that I have had the opportunity to live well after all, and I'm betting so do you.