I realized today that I have zero self-preservation instinct. I mean, none. Throughout my life I’ve found ways to endanger myself with barely a backward glance at a life lived safely.
I’ve jumped from cliffs as high as 50 ft into pools of water slightly larger than a postage stamp, flown on the wing of a plane, jumped out of hot air balloon while hovering over a cloud bank, and talked smack to an entire pack of goons.
I used to think it was because I wasn’t smart enough to realize I was in danger. Lately though, I find myself realizing that some of these potentially life threatening situations were not the result of risky business, but because I am not really afraid to die.
Some people expend a great deal of energy being afraid. Of course I’m talking about walking through a ghetto at night, swimming with sharks, or jumping out of perfectly good airplanes, but I’m also talking about doing things that are much more mundane.
Quitting your job when you’re unhappy seems like common sense to me. Of course, not many people will quit a job unless they have lots of money in the bank or a job waiting for them. I have had some shitty jobs in my day, but when it got to be too much, I just quit. I’m 38 now and can safely say that everything always worked out.
Self-preservation would dictate that you have all your ducks in a row before you jump. I’m not a duck-sorter kinda guy I guess. I am a “fate” kinda guy though and figure that if things are meant to work out, they will. So far, fate has been kind.
I’ve now been on Maui for a little over a year and I can’t see myself leaving. The Red Queen seems happy and has stuck by me through thick and thin, which of course makes it easier. Fate seems to be similing on us, so, for the foreseeable future, Maui is our home.
Now if I can just get my movie script finished and sold.