The inspirational allure of the curiously mundane puts me into a trance of appreciation.

I can get trapped in an old office supply store, paper goods store, or crowded local hardware store, exploring the weird world of the mundane, for longer than my companions usually think is strictly necessary. The utterly normal – whether old or new – crafted with particular quality or ingenuity makes me rub my hands together in anticipation, thrilled that someone else admires details and usefulness as much as I do.

Other lovers of glorious everyday objects include the creators of the these sites:

The Curiosity Shoppe – “Crafts, kits & curios for the creatively inclined”

ReForm School – “Art Craft Design”

Sadie Olive – “Antiques, collectibles and all things inspiring” (Thanks to highly sensitive Stephanie for pointing me to this site from her blog at Mainstream Melancholy.)

Flickr photo: I Believe Your Have My Red Swingline Stapler, by foundphotoslj’s.

Related reading: Fonts of Joy, The Link Between Mess and Abundance

“A geek is…any dogged explorer or crazed inventor, anyone who fixates on a project and won’t let go, anyone who builds his own damn rocket! It’s a label to be proud of, in any star system.”

~ Editors, Wired

Remember when “geek” wasn’t a label to be proud of? When geekdom seemed to guarantee unwanted attention from people who were convinced they were more cool? Then geeks got together and developed tons of gadgets the cool set now can’t live without – including the Internet and the World Wide Web, which they showed us how to use – and made lots and lots of money in the process. Somewhere along the way the term “geek” morphed into a source of pride. Now it’s come so far it can be counted on to draw customers looking for technical expertise, and computer assistance companies have come up with all sorts of ways to incorporate the word “geek” into their company names. Here in Vancouver there’s a volunteer organization called Free Geek, whose tag line is “Helping the needy get nerdy since the beginning of the 3rd millennium.”

Gays and lesbians travelled a similar route through the public’s collective mind. They got proud, stood up together, and drew the public’s attention to their self-acceptance. Leadership was offered by groups such as Queer Nation, which used the slogan “We’re here. We’re queer. Get used to it” and led the way in reclaiming what had been a term of derision – “queer” – for their own. In doing so, they softened its barbs, to the point where, today, the Emmy-award-winning television program Queer Eye for the Straight Guy is in its fifth season. When groups of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered people paraded down public streets strutting their stuff for all to see, they made their numbers count for something. They stood up as one, proud of who they are. And the general public certainly noticed.

Pam Catapia’s thoughts about wanting to live in a highly sensitive village remind me that geeks and queers have gone before us as worthy examples of how the tolerance-shifting, door-opening power of community starts with finding each other. Geeks got together at colleges and universities, around glowing computer screens, and over the Internet. They populated Silicon Valley and the Microsoft Campus. Places like San Francisco and parts of other cities are known for being more friendly to queers (in Vancouver’s gay neighbourhood, along parts of Davie Street, the city bus stops and garbage cans are painted hot pink – a clear sign of the city’s tolerance). And there are magazines focused on issues important to queers and geeks (Wired magazine is notably geek-proud, for instance). In other words, there are known places that queers and geeks can go to be welcomed, to find acceptance, to get real.

Geeks and queers also have had support from people who aren’t geeky or gay or lesbian, but who want them to be free to be who they are. One such organization is PFLAG (Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays), a large international group of supporters.

Let’s get ourselves some of that. Granted, a highly sensitive pride event is unlikely to be a public parade, but I’m curious to learn what our ways of showing our pride are. Let’s find each other and share our stories and gain strength from acceptance – of ourselves and of each other.

How can we go about it?

Self-acceptance

Reach inside. Do what needs doing to become not just highly, but proudly highly sensitive. Re-read the books, explore counselling, search the Internet – do whatever needs to be done to get healthy and to be proud of being an HSP.

Find Each Other

Reach out to other HSPs. Take a few chances with making contact. If an attempt to identify other HSPs or to forge a new friendship with another HSP doesn’t succeed, think about why it didn’t, adjust the strategy, and try again. Repeat until successful.

Focus on Strengths

Rather than putting energy into what’s difficult about being an HSP in our culture, shift the focus to what’s great about being an HSP and what parts of our culture already champion us. For instance, a lot of HSPs do well being self-employed. If that appeals to you, how could you make it happen? Become a cultural detective. Follow clues.

Go public

Speak out. With a growing community at our backs, with a focus on finding the places where HSPs are assets and spending more time there, with good pals who are HSPs, with resources and encouragement on tap because we’ve searched them out and found what works for us individually and collectively, going public becomes easier.

Foster Allies

Anyone who already loves us just as we are is an HSP ally. Through education and invitation more will come. We are not alone.