Security or Freedom?

I am warned constantly to make safe choices, reasonable choices and even easy choices. People who care about me are afraid i will fail, regret or be heartbroken yet again. Part of me sees the kindness and the wisdom in this, the other part of me feels constrained and stressed by this. I want a great big juicy life, not a reasonable facsimile of a life. When i don't follow through with my passionate dreams i feel disconnected, disheartened and drab. sure, if you only risk a little you can only fail a little. Or is that true? when i play it safe and sensible my soul feels shriveled up and dry. when i dream big and risk big i feel alive, even if i fall on my face am i not still better off? That much closer to learning how to make it next time? Sure, its a bit humbling to utterly fail, but i will still braver for having tried and that means something to me. Where is the adventure in taking no risks? where is the fun, the exhilaration, the joy?

In a Heartbeat

Why do we continually make the same choice over and over even when we are not getting the result we want? I see it in others and I ask them why? Usually the answer has something to do with a fixed image of ourselves as a certain kind of person. In other words, we are the kind of person who must always say yes when our insides are screaming NO! Or we see ourselves as the kind of person who cannot ask a tough question for fear we won't be universally loved and adored. Or we feel we are the sort who must play fair and by the rules even if everyone else in the game has thrown out the rules, or perhaps they are playing a different game by different rules and have merely forgotten to inform us. I get this dilemma profoundly because I have walked this road most of my life. Until the day when I could not override my primal survival instincts and instead of playing sweet and nice,  I played the part of a ruthless negotiator. Oddly enough I have no regrets. I did what needed to be done. And I don't think I turned into a Rat Bastard like the person I pushed back  behind the line of civilized behavior. For him it was a way of life, for me it was a necessary adaptation fueled by a situation which I did not choose. I chose to temporarily expand my vision of who I could be given the right circumstances and was therefore able to act in my own best interest. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Spit it Out

What if the stuff you hold back from saying is the key that defines you? The comment you are afraid to make, the opinion that might offend someone or sound mean or harsh or even unkind? Every time you bite your tongue and hold back that direct statement of your real feeling you are watering down your essence, and abandoning your self. It is not always the pointed and unpopular things we hold back most, often we hold back from saying the sweet, gentle and kind things our hearts want to say just as much. Why would we do that? Maybe we fear being vulnerable, or sounding sentimental in a culture that prides itself on being strong and self-sufficient. We say the more acceptable thing, chose to tone our natural ferocity or tenderness down as if it is something to be feared or dreaded. We think others cannot possibly bear the unvarnished truth said without rancor or guile. People might surprise us with the strength, grace and humor to bear our real opinions and desires. There is no need to bludgeon most folks, and certainly no reason to be rude or unkind. But let's give the world our best stuff, our real self and see who can handle it. Don't you like the person you know who tells it like it is? Don't you admire those who are direct and genuine about what they want and need so you do not have to guess how they feel? Often I have struggled so long and hard to say the right thing perfectly,  that the moment has passed me by and I end up saying nothing at all to something I feel passionately about.

Dissenters Be Damned

I used to get so frustrated with myself because as much as I loved the people and place I live there was always this yearning, restless desire to escape it. I would berate myself and wonder why I could not be content in such a fabulous place, that I could not force the dream to shut the hell up and to give me some peace. I have a fabulous family sequestered in nooks all within five miles of me, no not everyone, but a large number of people I adore. I have an apartment that is way under priced in this market and a great location and it suits me perfectly. I am working in my dream job for a nonprofit, with a boss and colleagues that treat with the utmost respect and consideration. So as I am kindly reminded by others, as well as my logical self, why in the hell would I want to give this all up to live in a place that has an astronomical cost of living, away from those I hold dearest, and in a country that does all it can to avoid giving out highly coveted resident visas?  A good question and the answer recently became clear to me. If despite all logic my heart and soul keep insisting I go there, then there is a damn good reason. Despite all evidence to the contrary I belong there, in England. No matter how fabulous a life I create here, I will always want to be there. Despite how difficult it might be, despite having no clear idea how I can make it happen, at least I can give myself a break and accept that it is okay for me to want this with all my heart, dissenters be damned.

 

What's the Risk?

So what does it mean to you when something is described as edgy or dangerous? Do you shy away from the words or are you drawn in helplessly unable to resist their lure? As humans, I believe we are drawn to the unusual, the fantastic and the forbidden for a reason. Perhaps only by reason of sorting out the risky from the safe path, but some are more obsessed with the taboo than others.
The question that always rises for me is how far? and at what cost? If living on the edge necessarily includes some element of risk, then just how far are you willing to go? Why do some people turn away from the slightest risks hyper vigilantly while others push every situation as far as they can? Is it innate or taught behavior? Or is what matters first how we perceive it?
Many of us are taught to play it safe and we are confused when we see others charge right in up to their necks. We wonder if they forgot the rule book and worry if we should admonish them, or warn them to stay back.
It seems like the older you get, the riskier life is, I mean you could break a hip or retire penniless if you are not careful. Those fates would barely affect a twenty year old for a long time, but could be nearly irreversible in an eighty year woman's life.
Interestingly, hitting fifty last year seemed to open my eyes to the fact that risk is just not that scary, that in fact, it can be downright exciting.
I never understood the bad girls in school, I mean it was easy to see how often they made their own lives harder. They sometimes got pregnant, went to jail, had hangovers, got detention or at least got grounded a lot. I never saw the other side when I was younger, that they tested their wings, that they had more experiences both good and bad than I did. That they made crazy madcap memories, failed miserably and yet rose again from the ashes. They knew something I just learned, that life is about learning and growing, not being safe on the sidelines.

a kindred spirit

http://thethaichronicles.wordpress.com/2014/01/29/do-date-a-girl-who-travels/