What's Normal, Anyway?

In August, USAToday Newspaper printed an article entitled "Sixty percent of adults can't digest milk". It summarized about a decade of research into lactase persistence, the retention of the ability to digest lactose or milk sugar beyond the age of five in humans. Lactase persistence is of course, the opposite of lactose intolerance. In the case of those with lactose intolerance, consumption of milk or milk products results in the undigested sugars ending up in the colon, where they begin to ferment, producing gas that can cause cramping, bloating, nausea, flatulence and diarrhea.

In the United States, where many are of Northern or Central European descent, or have some of that in their genetic composition, people who can't digest milk are called lactose intolerant, as if this is unusual or a disease. Instead, years of research has identified five genetic groups that retain this ability to digest milk. Roughly 7,500 years ago in the Central Balkans, a single genetic mutation happened that enabled lactase persistence. At least four other similar genetic mutations have been discovered in Africa, but the Central Balkans one is the one that caught my eye. For those of you who have not obsessed over the movements of ancient people, this means that the peoples that eventually settled most of Central and Northern Europe are descendants of these people. Later, of course, these groups were the first to show up and eventually create the United States.

I've grown up hearing that drinking milk is good for you, and feeling bad about my cousins who loved ice cream but got sick when they ate it. I've heard for my whole life that it's abnormal to be lactose intolerant, and now I find out that being lactase persistent is the odd thing. This realization brings me to this newsletter’s topic, "What's Normal, Anyway?"

Normal, to borrow a phrase, is in the eye of the beholder. And this, dear readers, is the crux of the problem. What I think is "normal" has been shaped by my family, my environment, my culture, my society, my talents, my abilities, my inabilities, my tastes, and my experiences. No single other person in the world is precisely like me, and yet, I assume that what I think is "normal" is, indeed, exactly that.

But what happens when we are faced with evidence that something we consider normal is, in fact, not? The milk example may be a silly one, but it is relevant. Think about the enormous amounts of money the Dairy board has poured into promoting its wares. What would be the economic impact on that industry if more people stopped bowing to social pressure and stopped drinking the milk that made them fart? Should we be calling more of the information we have received for many years about what is and is not healthy into question? Perhaps we should start examining our assumptions and beliefs.

As many of you know, I'm working on a book about Midlife Transformation. My basic premise is that midlife does not have to be a crisis, that it can instead be a time of rediscovery and growth, and I provide both solutions and a guide to implement these solutions. However, is that basic premise correct? After all, the midlife crisis legend is a key part of the American’s perception of growing "old". It's accepted that women will be droopy hags, sweating and miserable, while men will recklessly pursue a second adolescence, each proceeding through this chicanery prior to disappearing into a meaningless, hopeless dotage. Now that I'm here (midlife, not my dotage -- at least I don't think I'm in my dotage, yet), I've realized that not only is the concept of the midlife crisis insulting, it's absolutely unnecessary.

It comes back to subscribing to social pressure to adhere to some definition of normal behavior. Each of men and women, if they are to live successfully within a culture, must live within some level of cultural norms. But even within a society, at a local level, the definition of those norms can and will vary. So which normal do you choose? And how do your children choose? And should we let others choose the norms by which they define their lives?

Ever since I read that article, I have been looking closely at what I consider normal. Each time I look at someone and catch myself thinking that something, anything, about them is abnormal, I'm consciously stopping and asking myself why I think that and how it might fit into someone else's definition of normal. I've been working on becoming less judgmental as I've been getting older, so this is actually familiar territory for me, if a different approach. I have still caught myself wondering how someone could wear something in public that I wouldn't be caught dead in. Who's right? Them? Me? Does it really matter?

I do not wish to be judged by anyone. Nor, I suspect, do you wish to be judged by anyone. Each of us seeks acceptance, at least on some level. Even the most adamant individualist yearns for human contact, and that is often contingent upon some level of acceptance. So, each of us is who we think we need to be at work, at home, in relationships, in public places, and in private. The recent behavior of Kanye West at the VMAs was inexcusable, in my opinion, but his original position post-outburst was that he was "just keeping it real". I wonder how he would have reacted if Axl Rose had run up on the stage and took the microphone from Beyonce during her speech. "Real" in this context really was supposed to mean that he was just being normal. I wonder how frequently things I do innocently hurt or dismay others without me understanding the impact of my actions. I suppose I'll find out at some point, but until then, I have to hope that those affected can forgive me for my unintended transgressions.

Before I close, I'd like to share something I find incredibly funny. On Monday, I decided to use the speed clean option on my oven (this is not the funny part). Shortly after I started the oven on its cleaning cycle, I tidied some areas of the house a bit, and discovered upon my return to the kitchen that there was an open flame in the oven (we still haven't gotten to the funny part). I called to my husband, who had chosen to work from home (again), and tried to make this his problem. He reassured me that it was entirely my fault since he had not told me a trick with something I made for him -- never do favors for your husband -- and that I should not worry. I was okay with that until I realized I was choking and nauseous from the fumes.

I retreated outside with some smoked salmon and crackers, rewarding myself with a lovely brunch. My dog stood and looked lovingly at me. I ignored her for quite some time, then decided to give her a bit of the smoked salmon. She accepted it, then placed it on the front step, sniffed it, then carried it partway down the front walk. She then laid it on the ground and sniffed it again. To my surprise, she then suddenly turned and crouched so she could grind the skin/fur behind her right ear into the fish, then repeated the process with her left ear, then right and left shoulders. After completing that process, she carefully picked up the much flattened fish, carried it to the drive way, again rubbing her shoulders into it, then ate it.

I am now convinced my neighbors think I'm insane because I fell over laughing at this. Is her behavior normal? Was my reaction? Either way, I hope this brought a smile to your face.

Allow yourself to be patient and to be true to yourself. Remember to take at least five minutes every day to simply be by yourself and breathe. Allow yourself to indulge in a moment of thought, reflection, and planning when the mood strikes. It's your life, your choice. Allow yourself to simply succeed on your own terms, to live in peace, abundance, and joy. One day, one decision at a time, remaining aware of your choices and your feelings. You CAN get there.

And, as always, if you need help, I'm available. It's what I do, and it's what I love to do.

Sharon.

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