T Shirt Prophets

There is nothing wrong with my spelling and this post is not about garment sweat shops.  I have been receiving today messages from t shirts.  Yes, t shirts.  When I was walking to my first professional assignment a young man's t shirt showed the message: normal is boring.  The wearer, a young South Asian man looked rather boring himself.  At least there were no distinguishing features to mark him as an interesting person or even a person of interest.  These are often the same kind of people who really are boring, have limited or no capacity for thinking originally, creatively or critically and have to wear a readable message on a t shirt likely manufactured in Bangladesh or one of those countries under deplorable conditions that by default declares them as being themselves mediocre, or, boring.  On the other hand he could be a scientific genius, or a musical prodigy, perhaps an emerging artist or writer or maybe a computer whiz.  Or maybe he's just kind of dull and uninteresting.  Boring.  And people who are easily bored are often quite boring themselves.  But I don't entirely agree with this either.  To me there is no such thing as a boring person and I know this from my considerably broad and lengthy experience of interacting with members of my species.  We are fascinating, as I mentioned to someone today when I was asked what fascinates me.
     I also find the ordinary, the everyday, the normal, to be not boring but really interesting since these quotidian practices of ours say so much about us.  The raising of children, food, our homes, our social habits, our occupations, our recreation and this whole dance and struggle that we are all engaged in every day just to survive, and keep ourselves from drowning.
     The next t shirt, actually a black tank top, and I have no idea where it might have been made, instructs us all to "find our centre."  Which to me suggests that we need to get through our boredom and explore the normal till we get to its very root and source and there we will find each of us our personal axis, or fulcrum, or perhaps one could call it the hinge on which our door is hanging.
     Later a young woman through the agency of her black t shirt and glittering silver sequined cursive letters declared only one word: Faith. 
     Two blocks later an olive green t shirt worn by a person whose gender I cannot remember said "Heal the World."
     So, I am reminded through the synchronicity of these messages to get over my boredom with the normal or at least with my unglamorous life and work my way through to the very root where I will find my centre and if I only have faith I can do my part to heal the world.