Risk. One of those words that says scary and run away. Protect yourself and avoid at all costs.
But isn’t that in itself a risk? You risk missing chances and adventures and relationships and living.
Hunter S. Thompson
“Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, “Wow what a ride!”
My family has long accepted that this is going to be my fate. I will die doing something crazy but I sure will love the ride.
[Snake: True, for as long as I’ve known you, we’ve agreed that this is how it will be!]
Snake and I have lists of things to do–I hate the term bucket list–both sexually and life goals. We’ve done a lot of ziplines, white water, traveled to places that are exotic and thrilling and had sex in some rather scandalous places. We have made the conscious choice not to wait for “someday,” but to live now.
But there is so much more to do. When we were in New Zealand, we heard the term black water rafting. Hmmm… this sounds intriguing. IT’S RAFTING RAPIDS THROUGH A CAVE!!!!! We’ve ziplined through a cave and if you get the chance, just do it. I mean, really. We are definitely putting the black water rafting on the list, though. How cool must that be?
[Snake: This sounds like so much fun… sans the critters in the water, which will just have to be… “experienced” … but yeah. It looks amazingly intense.]
But risk comes in many forms and I think the emotional risks are scarier and harder to push through and get past. If I let this person in, will they hurt me like the last one? Can I put aside my emotional baggage and really trust that they are true? Can I let them see me, the real me, and not put on a persona?
And, before you start searching my social media, no, I am not writing about anything or anyone specific. You know that you would–and, yes, I’m looking at you!
The risks sometimes result in a lot of hurt. And anger. And disenchantment with people. Those results make me want to avoid it in the future. Don’t stray too far from the sidewalk or trust and be safe. It’s a nice cocoon. Snuggle in with Snake and just push everyone else away.
But, truly, is that living? There are times to pull back and regroup and recharge. I know my own limits and I have to do that sometimes. But, then, I have to step back out into the world and risk those other attachments in order to be fully alive. So, yes, I choose too much feeling and too much affection and risk getting hurt in order to be me.