paths and passageways
Bungeeing off the Kawarau Gorge suspension bridge.
I’m not sure what drives me to do objectively stupid things, like jumping off a bridge to be a human pendulum, dangling by my feet. Maybe it’s because, as a child, I was often the least scared person to do the trapeze jump at camp (foreshadowing!), so I generally ended up going first. Once I got over my initial self-preservation instinct, I was hooked— first, adrenaline is fun; and second, there was a lot of popularity potential in being badass.
Although the popularity play didn’t pan out, I had gotten a head start on conquering fear in a few areas, as well as a taste for the rush. If you know, you know. It led me to aerial silks, my motorcycle license (sorry mom), petting lions in Zimbabwe, jumping out of airplanes, and, yes, diving off of 150’ bridges in New Zealand.
And hey, I’m still here.
I like to say I’ve done many stupid things smartly. Conversely, I’ve also done a lot of smart things rather stupidly. I don’t think the former really necessitates the latter, but for better or worse, that’s the path I’ve been trekking along for the last couple of decades. I wouldn’t recommend it to everyone.
That said, if there’s one thing you get from wandering off the proverbial trail in life, it’s contrast. I suspect that if we never had any contrasts in our experiences, we’d find it much harder to internalize the why behind doing things the smart way in the first place.
Why make our beds? So we sleep better the next night in untangled sheets.
Why save money? So we can buy that home tomorrow, instead of that Bottega today.
Why be our genuine selves? So we attract the people who genuinely love us, not merely the image we want them to see and accept.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being on the formulaic, tried-and-true path. I often find myself envious of those who’ve made the “better” decisions and consequently achieved more to date: family, finances, recognition, etc.
However, I think it’s inevitable that everyone gets a little lost in the woods at some point in life. The earlier it happens, the easier it is to bounce back: its effects will be less compound and impact fewer lives. And then you have that much more time to build on, apply, and share your newfound knowledge.
I like to think that even though some of the risks I’ve taken have closed a few doors, perhaps they’ve opened a few secret passageways.
I couldn’t possibly tell you where they lead, but I will say this: there is raw potential in the unknown.
And that splash you hear? That’s me diving in.
I don’t regret a thing.
