In my quest to really live my life, to have the experiences I want to be having, I've been doing and planning some things that aren't necessarily the "norm" for lots of people. While I'm no stranger to being the oddball in the immediate vicinity, this has led to some interesting reactions from people. You'd think they'd have learned by now to just smile and nod and move along. But people just can't stop themselves from voicing their opinion or think they're being helpful.
Let me preface the next part with this: though I may do some things that have some inherent risk or may not be the safest, I am not reckless. Impulsive, sure. But I will not knowingly do something that is just reckless and stupid. I calculate the risk and weigh the options. Because, let's be very honest here guys....there's risk involved in everything. Every morning I get in my car and drive to work, I'm taking a risk of a car accident or vehicle malfunction. Sitting in this condo building, I have the risk of one of my dumbass neighbors burning the joint down while we sleep. We get complacent and enjoy the illusion of safety, but life is truly inherently risky. It's only the "it'll never happen to me" mentality that let's us all feel calm and safe and un-anxious much of the time.
Maybe it's the joy of getting out of my 20s that has made the reality of life increasingly clear. I have realized that I would so much rather spend my money on experiences. That I have the ability to do so. That I can't take it with me when I go, so I may as well enjoy what I have. Why wait for "someday"? Why wait until I'm retired to try to get out and see the world and enjoy life? Why waste the time? I never want the regret of what I should have done or seen or been to hang over my head.
I posted a status on Facebook the other day that got some echoed responses of how true the statements are: It dawned on me that when I tell people ahead of time what I want to do or what I plan to do, if it's outside the "normal" box - if it has a risk involved that people cannot stifle and turn rose-colored or hold at arm's length - I get a lot of negative feedback. Some is outright negative. I've gotten called "crazy" and lord knows I'm used to getting the LOOK...like I'm some sort of alien creature people can't make sense of. BUT....when I tell people after the fact about what things I've done, the feedback is primarily a bunch of "wow!!" or positive statements. It's interesting to see that perhaps people's own fears and limitations they set on themselves project out onto others.
I've said before that I'm a 100% in kind of person. When I like something or I want to do something, I am all in, full-speed ahead. I recognize that about myself. I recently shared with a friend that I was considering exploring something new to me in further depth - which could become a costly endeavor initially - and was promptly reminded of my tendency to swan dive into things. And then I felt bad about being that way. What if I am too impulsive? What if I do crash from thing to thing, sampling a little of this and tasting a little of that and flitting around like some drunken butterfly? After a couple of days of pondering this, it hit me:
SO. WHAT.
So what if I try a million new things? Isn't that better than sticking with the same 5 things I'm used to and just wondering? When I'm done with this life, I want to look back and have zero regrets. I want to know that I've LIVED. Full on, full speed, insanely, abundantly....LIVED.
I am a responsible adult in many respects. I've stood on my own two feet since I was 18. I've never let anyone - nor have I expected anyone to - take care of me. I have always paid my own bills. I have always supported myself. I have always made sure that my responsibilities are taken care of, first and foremost. So, now that I have worked hard and earned myself a place in life where I can take care of all of those basics, have I not also earned the ability and the right to enjoy myself? And who gets to dictate what that means? Pretty sure I do. Because, in the end, it's my own life.
I don't know if my enthusiasm bothers people. I don't know if my inability to fit in a box makes people uncomfortable. Maybe it just makes me unlikable to some. That's okay. It's okay if people don't like me. As long as I am kind and compassionate and do my best to be a good person....then I'm going to do things on my terms. I'm not hurting anyone and if they're uncomfortable with who I am, that sure sounds like it's their problem.
I will not dim my enthusiasm. I will not set my limits within others' comfort zones.
And so I'm embracing it. Because I am happy. The feeling of being totally in the moment, of being solidly content and just in love with life....that's a feeling of freedom. And every time I experience that, I revel in it. If it were tangible, I'd roll around in it like a dog in fresh wet grass. I wish that feeling for everyone. In whatever things bring that feeling for them. Maybe it's sitting in your home, looking at your beautiful family....being surrounded by a loving spouse and happy children...having a solid foundation and a daily life that brings fulfillment and joy. Maybe it's traveling the world, seeing new things and meeting new people....seeking out adrenaline pumping adventures and checking things off your list. Maybe it's all of these things. Maybe it's none of these. It doesn't have to match my own picture of happiness and being....it just has to match whatever picture is inside of you.
I have plenty of things up my sleeve as far as plans go. But I'm not ready to share them yet. Some I will share beforehand. Some I won't. Some I know that I run the risk of a light-dimming wet blanket being thrown on my excitement by some well-meaning but soul-stomping human being. So those things only get shared with my very trusted few. Just know....you'll all hear about them (probably until you wanna roll your eyes right out of your head and puke a little) when the time is right.
 |
| Dictate your own story |
That's awesome, B. I can't even think of another way to put it.
ReplyDeleteThank you, buddy. :)
Delete