Dangerous fun

I decided to get a little help with blog inspiration.  Not that I’m not inspired on a fairly regular basis by things and people around me.  I am.  And you see, or read that, fairly regularly.  But I want something different, for a while.

I looked up, on the ole’ internet, a site that has dozens of blog prompts.  This is the first one that came up:
“What is something dangerous that you did for fun?”

I am not much of a thrill seeker, in  the traditional sense.  I don’t like roller coasters.  I don’t do something strictly for the adrenaline rush.  As a matter of fact, I don’t like being frightened.  I don’t like it, at all.  I have full-on panic attacks during scary movies.  And I can work myself up into a frenzy if I suspect that my safety is threatened.

However, my line for danger is a pretty fine line.  Actually, it is rare that I actually feel I am in danger.  So, that being said, what event am I referencing?  When I was 15, my BFF and I were together… almost always.  We would travel everywhere by bus.  From way down south of the city to way up north of the city and everywhere in between.  The world was our oyster.  So there we were, at 10:30pm, at a bus stop in a not-so-nice neighborhood.  Me and my cute little friend.  And we would sing different songs (we are both recovering choir geeks), in harmony, while we waited for the bus to arrive.  In hindsight, we were so at risk there.  I remember, once, we were singing MoTown hits (which is what we were learning in choir).  We didn’t realize there was someone there, at first.  This old, dirty, worn-looking man.  He sorta looked like a hobo.  He was sitting behind the bus stop, and we had *no* idea he was listening.  He made a noise and we instantly stopped, and sit in silence.  Not because we thought he was going to do anything to hurt us; we were embarrassed about encroaching on his ear space.  After about 30 seconds of silence he says, “Keep singing.  I like listening to it.”
And so we started again.
It was a lovely time in my life.  And we did that *all* the time.  We walked through neighborhoods that were run-down.  We talked with people who didn’t have a pretty bow wrapped around them, symbolically.  We laughed and enjoyed our lives.  And we did it for the fun of doing it.

I very rarely see myself in “danger”.  I wouldn’t say that I don’t have that instinct.  Rather, I think that my instincts are fairly sharp… but sometimes delayed.  By the time I see myself in danger, it’s because it’s impending doom.

On the other hand, I refuse to live in fear. I’ve been through enough, in my time, to see what living in fear looks like.  I see a whole lot of people who limit themselves, and their experiences, because of the “what-if” factor.  “What if”, in most cases, is something that spurs me to action. It gives me hope.

The question you ask yourself is: how is fear limiting you today?  How is the “what if” making you change your course of action?  If success were guaranteed, what would you do?

As for me, I’m going to eat a mango.  Or maybe have a mango smoothie.  Why?  ‘Cause “what if I don’t like it” has stopped me for too long.

See?  Baby steps, folks.  You try your mango today, too.


2 thoughts on “Dangerous fun

  1. Funny that you mentioned mango. That happens to be my most favorite food.

    So far, I’ve never done anything remotely dangerous. Maybe because I’ve never encountered one, so I don’t know if I’d go ahead and do it. I do like riding on roller coasters and other more dangerous -looking rides, but I’m sure as heck I’ll never bungee-jump.

    Good post here.

    • Thanks for reading, Ms. Iglesias! 😉
      I have had mango… it’s been a while. But my tastes have changed and I always think, “Maybe I should try it again?” And I don’t. Today, I will. 🙂
      And I would *totally* go bungee jumping. Or skydiving. I just haven’t, yet. Someday… someday I will.

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