Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. - Mark Twain
The safe harbor is what I know. I know where the rocks are that I might trip over. I know where the shoreline begins and ends. I know the stars and their position in the sky. I have planned and planned for my life in the safe harbor so that I am calm in any crisis.
If I leave my harbor and catch the trade winds in my sails, what will happen to me? Will I possibly sink or will I soar? If I sink, will anyone be there to help me back to shore? And if I get back to shore, will I be too humiliated to ever sail again?
The risk of doing something I have never done before is unbelievably scary. So scary, in fact, that sometimes I don't even know that there is risk out there, so involved am I in staying safe.
I used to take risks like nobody's business. I moved 10,000 miles away. I got involved in protests where I was tear gassed and I had hair ripped out of the back of my head. I wore steel-tipped boots so no one would fuck with me. What the hell happened to her? She seems to have gotten lost. I would like to bring her back. I would like for my first instinct again to be that which isn't the safe option. The option that will make sure that no one gets mad at me. I want to think first, what do I want - a question I have forgotten to ask in many ways - and when I do remember to ask it, the answer is often, "I don't know."
So perhaps I will soar and I won't need anyone to come to my rescue. Perhaps I will learn new stars and find new harbors.
The safe harbor is what I know. I know where the rocks are that I might trip over. I know where the shoreline begins and ends. I know the stars and their position in the sky. I have planned and planned for my life in the safe harbor so that I am calm in any crisis.
If I leave my harbor and catch the trade winds in my sails, what will happen to me? Will I possibly sink or will I soar? If I sink, will anyone be there to help me back to shore? And if I get back to shore, will I be too humiliated to ever sail again?
The risk of doing something I have never done before is unbelievably scary. So scary, in fact, that sometimes I don't even know that there is risk out there, so involved am I in staying safe.
I used to take risks like nobody's business. I moved 10,000 miles away. I got involved in protests where I was tear gassed and I had hair ripped out of the back of my head. I wore steel-tipped boots so no one would fuck with me. What the hell happened to her? She seems to have gotten lost. I would like to bring her back. I would like for my first instinct again to be that which isn't the safe option. The option that will make sure that no one gets mad at me. I want to think first, what do I want - a question I have forgotten to ask in many ways - and when I do remember to ask it, the answer is often, "I don't know."
So perhaps I will soar and I won't need anyone to come to my rescue. Perhaps I will learn new stars and find new harbors.
Labels: Body Electric
Stumble It!
The story of Michael and me.
1 Comments:
right on!
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