I love xkcd, and I love this comic the most:
In spite of (because of?) the instance of profanity it contains, it hangs prominently above both of my desks, at home and at work. I am, of course, the guy at the desk, and the girl’s voice is like a siren calling to me.
I am a coward to the core. I like my security and safety.
Only I don’t. I hate it. I think I realize at times that in choosing the safe and secure life, I take the greatest risk of all, of not living fully the one precious life that I do have.
I recently quoted Eleanor Roosevelt’s famous admonition to “Do one thing everyday that scares you.” It’s worth repeating. I’m going to turn it into my personal mantra.
I also have the habit of telling friends and family members to “be safe.” Last week, when Jana left for New England, I decided not to tell her this. Because if she was being safe, she’d stay right here in Irvine. I don’t want my children to “be safe.” (Just to be clear, I don’t want them to be utterly foolish, to dance in traffic or anything.) CatGirl took a risk today and asked her principal if she could start a chapter of Amnesty International on her campus. (She tried to ask in person, but couldn’t get a hold of him so did so via email. We’re still waiting for a response.) She was willing to get over the fear of being rejected. She’s already doing better than most adults, including me.
The most worthwhile experiences of my life–the defining moments–are those times I was willing to risk something: choosing to spend a year in Japan as a kid, leaving home at 17, quitting college to serve a mission, getting married young, having kids, completing a marathon, submitting my writing to contests and for publication, joining the Church, leaving the Church, meeting people I only knew online, moving to California without a job, blogging openly (esp. on fMh, which scared me to death), speaking at Sunstone and at peace rallies, climbing cliff faces, etc. These have all added such marvelous value and flavor and depth to my life.
When I peer out the window and see how far it is to the ground, I get dizzy with fear. But I’m gathering strength and courage. I’m stocking up on cat-5 cable and braiding my stash into a solid length of rope. I may have missed adventure’s first call, but soon I’ll be ready to rappel down and seek her out.
30 responses so far ↓
1 Ryan // Sep 24, 2009 at 9:08 pm
Awesome.
2 JohnW // Sep 24, 2009 at 9:14 pm
Discovered my love of swing dancing the last time you wrote about leaving one’s comfort zone in January 2007.
Huzzah!
3 Meryl // Sep 24, 2009 at 9:28 pm
My best friend, in place of “be safe,” says “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” with a very big wink. I think you’ve done some wonderfully brave things, and I look forward to hearing your future adventures (and maybe sharing one or two)!
4 Zenaida // Sep 24, 2009 at 9:30 pm
I like repelling. Any time you’re ready to hang from a cliff face…
Here’s to living life to the fullest!
5 leisurelyviking // Sep 24, 2009 at 9:36 pm
I sometimes take delight in profanity. One good thing about growing up Mormon was that there are all sorts of relatively harmless things I can feel rebellious about (like tea!).
6 Molly // Sep 24, 2009 at 9:51 pm
@leisurelyviking — zomg that is so true. My friends get a total kick out of seeing me be thrilled at how edgy I think I am when I’m doing stuff they considered tame in high school.
7 chosha // Sep 24, 2009 at 10:05 pm
I agree it’s wise to do things you find scary, but I’m not really an every day thrillseeker. Once a week and I’m good.
8 Melissa // Sep 24, 2009 at 11:49 pm
At the end of ‘Still Life with Woodpecker’, a book I was obsessed with when I was 19, it states that “it’s never too late to have a happy childhood.” And in some ways, childhood and adventure go together. So here’s to a happy childhood and adventure!
(tomorrow…I’m too old today to be adventurous!)
9 Kevin // Sep 25, 2009 at 1:31 am
Nietzsche’s call to live dangerously sent many young men into the trenches of WWI. While that danger might be a little extreme, the idea of pushing one’s comfort zones is a definite plus in my book
. Possibly cheesy philosophy quote: Become who you are, don’t just be who you are.
10 Jana // Sep 25, 2009 at 4:21 am
I’ve thought a lot about this as I’ve traveled. I do feel vulnerable as a female alone, walking city streets with spendy electronic stuffs in my bag, and no idea how concerned I should be about my personal safety at any given moment. Several times this past week I’ve put myself completely in the hands of strangers (or near-strangers), trusting their good intentions. So far, so good.
I think there’s also a difference between doing something just for the sake of feeling the thrill factor (like, say, bungee jumping) and doing something that’s risky because you are afraid of rejection (like sending your first novel to a publisher). I tend to take the latter kind of risks, though I do a bit of both.
11 deb // Sep 25, 2009 at 6:41 am
I read your wife’s blog and came over here. I have trouble with fear as well. Read this lately and thought I would share it with you.
“Faced with such a choice, choose anxiety and ambiguity, for they are developmental always, while depression is regressive. Anxiety is an elixir and depression a sedative. The former keeps us on the edge of our life, and the latter in the sleep of childhood.” James Hollis.
12 Lessie // Sep 25, 2009 at 7:31 am
I’m not much of one for cliffs, or skydiving, etc. But I realized in my early twenties (after studying Nietzsche, Kevin), that if I wanted anything out of life, it was up to me to go get it. It took me another five or six years to take that first step. And that first step felt emotionally like what I’m thinking the first repelling step might feel like physically, but so far it’s been worth the risk.
13 Isaac // Sep 25, 2009 at 7:36 am
Life is short–live it. Even if you fall down or break a bone once in a while, it’s worth it.
14 Marcus // Sep 25, 2009 at 7:49 am
This reminds me of Joesph Cambpell talking about the hero’s path. It’s not always admired by society, and it’s often filled with danger and intrigue, but the rewards are great. It also brings to mind what a friend once told me. “May my way be lit by the bridges I burn.” I don’t know if I really endorse the last one, even if it is catchy.
15 Craig // Sep 25, 2009 at 8:27 am
I have some mild-moderate social anxiety, and have an especial fear of rejection, so I can really identify with this post. I have gotten a lot better in the past couple years, and have become (relatively) far more adventurous. Being out of the closet has certainly been an adventure, though I think I’m pretty much used to it by now.
I’ve come to know the value in new experiences, even if it’s hella scary.
16 xJane // Sep 25, 2009 at 10:17 am
We have such an amazing community! One of the things that attracted me to this particular xkcd comic was the use of color: the safe, black and white world inside and the clinging-to-the-side-of-a-building world filled with color and possibility outside.
Meryl—I often end up saying, “Don’t do anything I would!” and strive to be a bad influence on everyone I know (because I firmly believe that everyone needs a good bad influence in their life).
Thank you all for the inspiring words
17 Davis // Sep 25, 2009 at 2:50 pm
While I agree with you about stretching your limits and pushing your comfort zones, the lure of adventure in life is often vastly over-rated.
I know a fair number of friends that have thrown away a great life because they felt like they were missing out on something and wanted to go and catch it.
I myself have had an adventuring past. It was thrilling at times, but I missed out on some of the greatest things in life because of it.
These days my philosophy follows this quote from the greatest explorer of all time:
“Adventure is just bad planning.”
Roald Amundsen
It is great to be bold and explore, but in seeking what we think we have missed, we give up the great adventure that we are in the middle of.
18 John // Sep 25, 2009 at 3:10 pm
Davis, obviously there are all kinds of ways to qualify my initial devotional post. And there’s risk in any decision, I suppose.
I think my main point is that I’m coming from an approach to life governed greatly by fear, and I need to correct in the other direction. Just to pull one mundane example, if you hate your secure job as an accountant, you can: 1) keep plugging away until retirement; 2) quit suddenly w/o having another job to go to; or 3) commit to and create a business plan for that catering business you always wanted to run. Option 1 is fear-motivated, Option 2 is foolishness, and Option 3 requires overcoming fear of the unknown, the risk of total failure, but also the possibility of success if one approaches it a la Amundsen.
–Who ate his dogs to reach the South Pole, by the way–something Scott wasn’t willing to do. Not judging that, just a meditation on what it takes to succeed, sometimes.
19 John // Sep 25, 2009 at 3:16 pm
deb, that’s a helpful quote. I’m going to chew on that for a while. Thank you.
Jana: swimming on the open water of the Pacific, miles from the closest shore? Sharks? Hundreds of feet of water below you? That’s some physically scary stuff!!
leisurelyviking and Molly: sometimes I go for a double shot espresso. Or I drink enough of some legally-obtained alcohol to get tipsy and sleepy.
20 notentirely // Sep 26, 2009 at 9:41 am
{{hug}}
just the post i needed to see.
21 Paul // Sep 26, 2009 at 9:12 pm
“the one precious life that I do have.”
Who’s to say you have only one life; who’s to say it is all that precious?
22 John // Sep 26, 2009 at 9:31 pm
notentirely: thank you for the hug. It sounds like we both need this message, though I have to say that I often look to your example of living this life so fully.
Paul, I’m speaking from my own personal experience here, which has lead me to those conclusions. It’s not my intent of this post to rationally debate the possibility of life beyond this one, but to express my personal struggle to overcome the fears that inhibit me from becoming my better self, right here, right now, in the context of my view of mortality.
So, yeah, I say I have only one life, and I say that it (and the lives of all those I encounter) are indeed very precious to me, and it very much colors my personal experience of this one life and of my relationships with others in it.
23 Paul // Sep 26, 2009 at 10:58 pm
You have an answer, then, for which I can only hope that, for you, your relationships, your experiences — your precious life — you also have fearless peace.
24 John // Sep 27, 2009 at 5:39 am
Paul, I don’t have fearless peace yet. But I’m working on it.
But I do have greater peace of mind than I did as a Mormon, and a Christian, so I’d like to think I’m making some small progress. We’ll see.
25 Chandelle // Sep 27, 2009 at 7:38 am
It occurred to me recently that I’ve become more fearful in the past few years. I think about all the scary things I’ve done in the past – finishing high school at the university, graduating at 15, moving several states away at 16, getting married at 19, choosing to have children right away, throwing away my college education to do something passionate, committing to a simpler life – and I honestly wonder if I would choose to do these things over again, if presented with the decision right now. I think I’d be too scared now. And all of my greatest fears come down to loss – losing my children, my partner, my livelihood, my commitments, my ethics, my friends, my health, my ideals. I’ve been thinking about how I can overcome this fear, how I can override that inimitable fear of loss to embrace life as fully and fearlessly as I once did. I feel like I’ve lost almost all of my self-confidence. But this post inspires me.
26 Rainey // Sep 27, 2009 at 9:00 am
Chandelle-
I don’t know your story so I’m loathe to jump in with advice or commentary. All I’ve got is (((((((HUGS))))))) and the thought that surviving is sometimes the most fearless thing we can do for now. And there’s always tomorrow. ((((((((((MORE HUGS)))))))))))))
27 Davis // Sep 27, 2009 at 1:01 pm
John,
I see what you are saying. And I tend to agree for the most part. I suppose the one thing my early ‘adventures’ did teach me was not to fear govern my life too much.
You are right about Amundsen, he did eat his dogs. What you didn’t mention was that was part of his plan all along. His men ate their dogs, and they fed dog to dogs. Scott never trusted polar traditions and thought Ponies and Men could haul better than dogs ever could. Unfortunately, that is what cost him his life.
28 Sister Mary Lisa // Sep 28, 2009 at 1:05 pm
I like this post for me, today. I was just pondering this today as I look at my blank canvas–how I don’t allow myself the pleasure of creating the art I want to create sometimes. I have a feeling that I should only create art that is for someone else rather than the art I want to create for myself. Fear that I don’t deserve to be truly happy. Fear that I am not worthy to be the artist I want to become. Fear that I will try my dream of being an artist and failing miserably.
I am trying to find a way to feel worthy to follow my bliss. Deep down I think I can do it. It’s scary as hell, though.
29 Deborah // Sep 28, 2009 at 1:53 pm
You ran a marathon? Cool.
30 Scurrilous J // Sep 30, 2009 at 1:20 pm
I see myself in that comic – unfortunately, I’m one of those drones at the computer. I am a capital-C Coward. I mean to break out, but then I realize the dishwasher needs to be unloaded. Yeah, I’m That Girl.
I think I may have to start reading your blog on a regular basis – it’s a rare treat to enjoy the comments almosts as much as the blog itself.
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