The World Ain't Slowin' Down

Lunch today was very interesting. I sat with CL, Bm, MR, and ABe, and we had some good discussions about Outliers* and fears of flying. Flying came up because of the AirFrance disaster that just occurred - we talked about the phenomenon of everyone becoming terrified of planes after one crashes and the statistical probabilities (all of which we almost certainly made up) of actually being on a plane that crashes, which we determined was probably low. Apparently AA is absolutely terrified of flying, and has only done it as of late because of his love for TA. As I sat at the table listening to the roots of and justifications for AA's refusal to fly (and the ramifications of that refusal on his career), I began to think about the lengths people go to in order to avoid that which they do not enjoy. Don't they realize, I wondered, that they are stunting their lives in order to skip out on a tiny bit of discomfort? How can you give up so much in exchange for so little? The world does not cave in to your fickle desires the way a harried mother does to a child who refuses to eat broccoli.

Like Ellis Paul says, "the world ain't slowin' down" - and it definitely is not going to stop to make sure it accommodates everyone, either. I became especially unimpressed when I learned that AA USED to fly, but ended the habit after one bad experience. Ellis Paul also asks, "weren't you the kid that just climbed on the merry-go-round"? What happened?

I could quote songs on the subject all afternoon - Patty Larkin suggests, "might as well dance"; Jimmy Buffett reminds us that "life is just a tire swing" and talks about "waiting for the next explosion"; and so on - but I think you've gotten my point by now. In case you have not, here it is: get over yourself and try to live your life just a bit. I'm not one to give advice on how to live it - some say working hard is a waste of your soul; others believe not working is a waste of your time. I don't know what is wasteful and what is not, but it seems to me that there is no point in going to Six Flags and refusing to ride on a roller coaster, or spending the day in a swimsuit at a lake but refusing to get in. The rides may seem terrifying at the time and the water may seem far too cold to consider, but when the day is over and you're driving home, you'll regret not trying it. I'm using these examples because I've made both of those mistakes - and I've also ridden the coaster and jumped in the lake when I really didn't want to. Thinking back on those times today, I remember that I was scared and a little sick after the coasters and cold and mildly miserable after the freezing water, but I don't remember those FEELINGS. I remember FEELING glad that I had done it, and feeling happy to be laughing with my friends about it, and feeling so content with walking on the ground and so comfortable and warm after a long shower. Thinking back on the times that I didn't take the plunge, I just remember knowing that it would have been worth the fleeting feeling of sickness or cold.

Six Flags and cold lakes were just examples of DAYS - metaphors (not very thinly veiled) for the difference between the satisfaction of action and the regret of inaction. How, I wonder, do people live their entire lives like timid days at Six Flags with "should haves" on the ride home? It is even more difficult to imagine that mentality when I just got back from a run (during which I ALMOST made it up the hill and resolved to go to the top tomorrow) and sat writing this in the sun overlooking Florence. The question that keeps running through my mind is, "Are people crazy"? The pervasive answer seems to be, "Yes".

*I was extraordinarily glad that my mother had required me to read the book over Christmas break, since it meant I could actually contribute to the conversation.