In many ways, I feel more flexible in my thought patterns today than I did at 18 when I entered college. But that may be, in my case, because I entered into a degree program (creative writing) and a vocation (marketing) and an avocation (poetry/fiction writing) and a lifestyle choice (liberal humanism) and a zen philosophy (The Beginner’s Mind) that all push one towards flexibility of thought. I’m not claiming this is a better way, just that it’s been necessary for my (ahem) sanity. Those who know me well may now shut the f**k up and stop laughing so hard. I’m the sanest person in the land, besides the invisible elf that lives in my hat, and y’all know it!

I was deeply shocked at myself, for example, when I discovered my very first “fashion inflexibility.” There are all kinds of fashion choices that I find less attractive than others. We all have certain looks and dress-styles that we enjoy more than others; it’s a question of taste. NBD. But I have never, until very recently, looked upon a particular mode of dress and done the, “My God! What are those kids thinking?!” thing.

My stumbling block? Flip-flops in public. What we sometimes called beach-sandals or shower-shoes when I was growing up. I was raised to believe that there are two places where it is appropriate to wear cheap-ass, plastic/rubber sandals that you can get at a gas station for $2 a pair: the beach, the locker-room (around the pool, basically). Maybe walking to either of those places from the car, or down the block from where you went to get ice-cream from the ice-cream man. That’s about it. But I’ve seen kids (these kids!) recently in all kinds of public places wearing these things out-and-about. I saw a girl taking an interview in an Abercrombie store in her flip-flops. I saw a girl in her late teens go to a wedding wearing them. I’ve seen boys wear them to good, up-scale restaurants and to museums. It is, apparently, just OK footwear at any/all times now.

And my brain can’t handle it. I’m working on it, as my creative Tao tells me that there is “No Bad Fashion,” only “My Perspective” and “The Other Perspective.” It’s important not to judge if you want to understand.

But, my gosh… it’s hard. They just look like… well… like they don’t give a rat’s ass what anybody things about them. Even ratty old sneakers don’t make a slapping noise and keep me from looking at the soles of your feet…

Sigh… Time to meditate on my own place in the river. If I am not to be overloaded or overwhelmed, I must be buoyant, not fixed.

One thing, I suppose… they are colorful

all people, throughout history, have either felt, in general, more hectic and pressured as their lives have progressed

The way this was phrased made me think that it’s simply the dampening effect of age that makes it more difficult for a person to adapt and account for changes in their environment.

I think that, in the past, the solution was to actively reduce the things someone was responsible for (and thus arose filial duty, somewhat?), whereas there is no such fix today and people who aren’t those remarkable few spritely elders get bombarded by the same level of intensity they could handle when younger and simply can’t (or won’t?) adapt.

It sounds like there’s a potential experiment in here. If you can control for a number of variables by sampling diversely and largely enough, you could take a group of 16-25s and a group of 35-45s and present them with a set of tasks intended to overload them ruthlessly and see how they react. You might be able to reliably say that it’s an age thing. Maybe. =P