The kids are watching the movie Sahara while I’m writing this blog post about jumping and danger. (They have played extensively without screens and we were outside for a while, so let’s not discuss appropriate screen time today.)
Sahara is an animated movie about snakes, not to be confused with the Matthew McConaughey and Penelope Cruz movie. The snake dad just said to his daughter who wants to leave the oasis and see what is going on in the outside world: “It’s too dangerous! You don’t know what’s out there!” The daughter answers, like a good teenager, something along the lines of “I don’t care. I’m suffocating here and want to see the world.”
Great, let’s unpack that!!! I can hear the parental (societal) fear in my head saying “Don’t do that – it is dangerous”. Very true for jumping off cliffs or similar dangerous and often lethal activities. Though, there are still people doing it for fun – just think of that bungee jumping or sky-diving hype. But deciding to live without a permanent well-paying job, moving into a 35-person boarding house or spending savings on travel instead of letting it accumulate are not equally dangerous.
Why is it dangerous?
The first question I ask myself when I hear a version of “it’s too dangerous” is: Why is it dangerous? So, why do my family and friends generally recommend not doing it? The danger is usually very different than the one jumping off something. Although the common fear seems to be about crashing or let’s say failure.
It’s always connected to survival. Crashing after jumping from a bridge is a physical threat to our survival. Crashing after giving up a paid job or “safe” place to live can threaten our survival in other ways like withdrawal from our support system, and lack of resources to provide for basic needs like food, drink, shelter, hygiene and clothing. It might be also the warning of the support network (family and friends) that they have enough going on and can’t offer emotional or material support when we decide to take that – let’s call it – jump.
I think it’s great to listen to all those voices and the possible threats they point out. I used to impulsively jump and then deal with the crash (like the snake daughter in Sahara). Nowadays – probably with age (don’t laugh) – I find it more helpful to listen and reflect before I jump. This enables me to work out how to survive or avoid the crash. I can also take a lot of load off my support system because my crash (avoidance) is less of an emergency. Thus, draws less on everyone’s resources.
Why do I want to do it? What is it worth?
The second question – or maybe sometimes the first, so let’s say the other question – I ask myself is: Why do I want to do it? Is it worth the risk? Apparently, the Adrenaline rush (and the fairly high monetary cost charged by those preventing your crash) is worth jumping from things. Leaving my home town where my support system was mainly located to go backpacking in Australia seemed to be a good option to broaden my horizon. Going on a 6-month trip through Latin America feels like it’s going to shake up beliefs, values and habits and provide me with new life views (ok, also broadening the horizon then). Separating and divorcing from my husband had the outlook of an end to the never-ending fights and the lack of space to breathe and be me.
The more people ask me why the hell, I want to take that risk (or jump), the more I reflect on that question. I have learnt to first listen to that little inner voice that tells me if it feels right (aka intuition). Once that voice confirms it feels right despite family and friends advising me to step back, I start to look into logical reasons so I can give them – and myself – answers.
It’s always about leaving something behind to get somewhere better. What I plan to leave behind, though, might be an ok (seemingly safe) place. The somewhere better, in return, might never be reached or turn out worse than the something I leave. A typical example is the job you quit to build up your company. The job might provide security but the company can potentially give you more freedom and more income – but it’s not guaranteed and you might end up working much more for less money.
That’s life
I think that this is life. It’s not all about reaching something better. It is mostly about the journey there. If we stay in a safe place, we can rest and recover. We can refill our reserves and digest/process to make space for the new. But then, we get this little itch (have you felt it lately? Often it comes in the form of jealousy) and it’s time to move to other, possibly better, pastures – not because they are better but because of the experience of getting there. The snake daughter (I finally looked up her name which is appropriately Eva) gets a whole lot of experience when she leaves the paradise, ehm, oasis. To return to my favourite topic, she also finds a lot of happiness in her journey.
No risk, no fun – hey?