Autism & Pyjamas

I love pyjamas.

My favourite part of the day is when I get to peel off the layers of the day and relax into a body unencumbered by straps, belts or elastic. (I may be mostly talking about bras here, but whatevs).  It's frowned upon to traumatise the family by lounging around in the nip, so I spare their horror by covering up in flannel.  

Pyjamas are great.  I can breathe, the family don't want to gouge their eyes out, and I get to commune on a spiritual level with my inner sloth.

I love that damn sloth.

If we all wore pyjamas going about our daily business, it might go a long way to neutralise the differences among us.  It could create a more level playing field, in a brushed cotton, horizontal kinda way.

But then (in a definitely more cellulite-y Sex & the City manifestation), I couldn't help but wonder..... would it really be so utopian if we were all the same?  

I wouldn't like all our differences to be mixed into a homogenous grey sludge of boringness.  Diversity imposes an edge of sparkiness that challenges convention and rigid security. Diversity births creativity.  Darwin, in the tradition of beardy clever people, told us this.  

Fear of difference can be explained as the original stranger danger, where rival tribes fed each other through mincers in case they robbed each other's crab apples and gave the gals the glad eye.  Or something.  Anyway, it was never a clever move.  A narrow gene pool is not healthy.  Check out royal families.

Difference in race, language, skin colour, age, gender, sexuality, IQ, religion, ability, species (I threw this one in to check you were paying attention) ..... whatever you're having yourself..... is what paints this world with beauty and interest.  Acceptance is not enough.  Embracing 'difference' is a joy.  Embracing difference is a key to transcending the dullness of this world.  

It's kinda a pain that I may need to change outta my pjs to get there, but some things are just worth it. 

would totes wear PJs if I could be arsed