Monday, September 22, 2008

Fragile

Not much really scares me. At my age that may sound a bit adolescent, but I don't mean it that way. You'll appreciate that I've always been a "thrill seeking" kind of personality. Adventure sports have always had a strange allure that somehow always seems to draw me in. For me, risk has always been part of the reward. I would not suggest I go looking expressly for danger but when it presents itself, backing down does not tend to be high on my list of choices.

I've had my share of "close calls" and walked away from more than I deserved. I've never even been seriously hurt by any of these adventures and would just as soon keep it that way. Some might say if you haven't been seriously hurt by my age, you're probably not going hard enough. I'd challenge that philosophy. Wisdom is often the greater of valor without compromising the adventure. Nevertheless, speed is addictive, heights enthralling, depth and pressure challenging, balance captivating... the list goes on for the things that capture my attention and spirit. And I wonder why...

Lately I've been facing an adventure unlike many before. I've been venturing into the depths of who I really am. Taking that second or third glance in the mirror some mornings to see past the day's beard and the baggy eyelids. Do you ever look deeply into your own eyes? Try it sometime... but don't allow yourself to escape too easily. If you stand there long enough, you'll begin to see and hear things that might look a bit dangerous. Your tendency will likely be to "cut and run," but (if anyone else is in the room, they may think you're weird, but that is part of the fun) I'd encourage you to stick it out a while. We'd rather not be "posers" now, would we?

It is ironic, but perhaps those who seek the greatest earthly risks and thrills are really the ones most fragile. One would think it to be the thick skinned, the fool-hearty, the rambunctious who chase dangerous things, but it may just be the opposite. The thinnest crystal resonates the finest tones, but it is also most fragile.

The other day my thoughts journeyed to the "edge" of me. Asking oneself, " Of what am I most afraid?" can be a sobering question. In one of those elongated mirrored stare downs, it hit me. "I'm most afraid of me." I'm afraid of having to face the very things I'm most capable of doling out to others. Rejection, abject loss, betrayal... and that's just in the first few blinks of self-reflection. What if I really got serious about this adventure? What then would I find?

Riding at high speeds, skimming down the face of waves, climbing rocky faces, swishing down slopes, diving down deep all require certain measures of confidence in one's own abilities. We trust our training and our experience to see us through even the most risky circumstances. But what happens when we run headlong into ourselves... where we can't simply twist the throttle or balance our way through it or reach down deep for that extra bit of "something" we need. What happens when it is simply us and the mirror... what then?

What about the occasions we have to trust someone else with the "real" us? What about when we are willing to put our heart into the hands of another (not speaking of a physician here, though the principle may equally apply)? What about when we give up looking out for ourselves first and our own interests first and finally sacrifice everything we have for the benefit of someone else? Let's talk about risk! And what exactly are we afraid of? Well... need I really say?

I realized the other day that the thing I'm most afraid of happening to me is the very thing I'm most often guilty of doing or being. It is that great "inadequacy" all of us face eventually if we stare long enough into that mirror. It is the exposure of true self and personal circumspection. Sometimes we cover all that up with makeup or some other disguise. Maybe a brash demeanor or an excessively quiet and reserved disposition or... maybe even "thrill" seeking? Either way... if we look long enough, we'll find that "thing" in all of us... and its fragile.

Maybe the greatest thrill is when we're willing to lay our lives out there and allow our greatest vulnerabilities to be realized and exposed. This is the place where speed can't move us away fast enough, climbing never takes us high enough out of its reach, diving is never deep enough to fully submerge from it... because we simply can't escape who we really are deep down inside.

So let me encourage you... take a couple extra moments and look into that mirror... step to the "edge" of you... and "go big, or don't go at all." You may be fragile like me, but the real adventure will have just begun!