an old friend i’ve been out of touch for a long time recently asked me where i’m at, and where i’m going (and no, she’s never been one for light questions or easy answers). and i found that when you’re trying for a succinct explanation of who you are these days and how you arrived there, it’s easy to come across as pretty goofy. everything sounds so overly slick and pat. glib. like you actually knew what the hell you were doing when you decided to do a, b, and c, rather than groping blindly along trying to figure it out by feel. like you seriously considered options x, y, and z, weighed up the pros and cons, and decided on a course of action.

in reality, i jump into most decisions or experiences in my life with little or no thought. i’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-the-pants kind of girl, and have always followed my heart over my head. of course, putting that out there in words makes me sound pretty irresponsible. and i guess that i probably am. but thinking about it further, trying to make sense of my insensibility, i realise there’s really no other way i could do anything. i could try for caution and self-protection, but it just wouldn’t be me.

you see, inside i’m a scaredy-cat. i talk a good game, all bravado and bluster, but inside i’m stone cold with fear. so i learned long ago that the only way to overcome that knock-kneed quaking, the only way to overcome my natural inertia and paralysis in the face of change, was to not think about it. nike’s old slogan “just do it” became my motto. it’s the same principle as bungeeing off a bridge – if you think about the actual jumping, you’ll never ever do it.

it’s hardly an advisable way to make lifechanging decisions, but it sure beats the sinking regret of inaction. my own personal brand of self-exploration: scare yourself shitless and see what happens.

so whenever someone tries to tell me i am brave, i feel a bit of a fraud. i’m not brave – to me the word “brave” connotes courage, of which i have none. stupid impulsivity? that i have bucketloads of. fear of standing still? check. stubborness? to spare.

of course at times, there have been bright, flaming failures. when you leap into things with both feet together and eyes tightly shut, there are bound to be mistakes. but there have been beautiful successes as well – things i never would have been able to bring myself to do if i’d stopped to contemplate the potential consequences. places, loves, and experiences that i would have been far too scared to immerse myself in if i’d thought even a millisecond about being vulnerable. i live that way because i don’t know any other, even though by most people’s measure, doing without thinking would be considered foolhardy. moving far away, saying “yes”, telling someone you love them – all without caution, without agenda, without pretense of bravery. with only your heart and your fear and your faith.

my friend said she thought foolhardiness and love might be two sides of the same coin.

and, you know, i reckon she’s right.

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