Thursday, August 1, 2013

Brave New World

I've been surprising myself left and right with my willingness to try new things. Where did this boldness come from? At first I thought it was reckless abandon, and if that's what it is-- I like it. 

I wrote recently about my perfectionism, about how I wouldn't try something new if I didn't think I'd excel at it immediately.

This realization came to me when I was covered in salt and sand, soaked to the bone and sore in muscles that I didn't know I had. I had just fallen face-first into the ocean after finally standing up on a paddle board. But I was high on adrenaline, because I did it. I did it scared.

I had crab legs for the first time the other day (I know, I know.) I sucked the juices out of a crawdad's bright red torso. Despite my fear of losing him, I let Tater run freely off his leash and play with his best buddy in the river (he loved it and came back when it was time to go home and take a well-earned nap.) I tried an Irish Car Bomb (awful name, decent drink.) I did The Wobble in the middle of a bar and probably looked totally ridiculous. I danced on stage with my bride-to-be best friend at a dueling piano bar. I stayed out until last call for the first time since my college days.

Have you done anything lately that scared you?