A commentary on Risk and A piece of a Convoluted Mess – Part 2
Some people are born without fear; without inhibitions and devoid of judgments. They usually speak softly and the ones I know carry big guitars.
I saw a concert this evening…in a café. So it wasn’t a concert, it was an act. Anyway, my new friend Jeff, and a man I know from last semester’S sister, Beth, performed a veritable cornucopia of original songs (written by Beth) and a few covers.
Simply put, I adore the sound of a guitar, but even more than that, I worship the sound of two. Jeff’s harmony of voice and strings ebbed and evanesced between melodies seamlessly and Beth’s style was mesmerizing. Both are outstanding musicians, and Beth is a fantastic lyricist, so the mix was euphoric.
But Jeff has no fear.
He approaches everything with a smile or a grin that hides nothing. His actions are random, spontaneous, and sincere; merely actions, with no ulterior motives, mischievous planning, or malicious self-service…unlike the rest of us.
This allows him the ability to take risks, without the declaration that he is taking them. His actions are simple in execution, and could easily backfire, but I doubt he is even thinking about that. He becomes supple to his surroundings and never dwells on the past. In a way, he just exists, living and experiencing every day to the best of his ability.
Are we…Am I afraid to live? But, “what are you talking about? I’m living.” I mean, hey, no one wants to be improvident and end up making a decision that you regret, right? We want to be safe, we want to be secure; why risk failure?
Because then we become robots. We continue on the same path with the same routine, until the day we break down. We don’t change. Without risk, nothing changes.
…Maybe this is all part of God’s creative juices. Create one human who is entirely impavid and impervious to any affronts we can muster, then, to compensate, God disperses the mass excess of fear and self-doubt among the rest of us. Perhaps this is why our bodies and minds are so imbalanced (screwed up).
Speaking of change and offering a segway into a non-existent conclusion, I have diagnosed myself with Onychophagia (the compulsion to bite one’s nails) and since its symptoms match mine perfectly, I have hatched a plan to fight it (about bloody time). Two days and counting that I have not bitten or picked my nails (or I have stopped myself in time). Ergo, on some small level, I understand how some Smokers must feel, because this is HARD. I’ve had this habit for years and it has only worsened with age. They said braces would cure me, but it only offered itself as a challenge to the aspiring nail biter! I found ways around my impediment to achieve a higher level of Nail Biting!
It made me feel like I had accomplished something, somehow, like I had beat the system or some such nonsense. Also, as the description of Onychophagia suggests, nail biting serves as a type of energy release (it makes me feel good), so as one can imagine, the event of me depriving myself of such a sensation can be difficult.
So I am converting my overload of self-destructive desires into more positive forms of application…such as forcing myself to pay real attention in Geography (I learned a lot of nifty stuff, too!).
I am not afraid to change. Though my current impetus for this change is a girl, she is well worth the effort.
Old habits die hard, but I’ll die harder.
Over and Out,
Adam
No comments:
Post a Comment