I am more cautious when making decisions these days. I didn’t used to be. In my family, I have always been known as the risk taker. The one who stepped out of the norm to explore the unknown; the different. When it comes to food, I am the foodie of all foodies. If I haven’t tried it, I will. All except for spicy foods. Maybe because I’m already too spicy as it is. Just a guess. Jobs, places to live or people to befriend, are just a few of the areas of my life where I’ve launched out into the deep. I’ve never been afraid to try something new or different. In fact, the more different, the more intrigued I am to try it. Adventurous? Could be. Bored? Maybe. Whatever the reason for the explorer in me, I like it.
Because I was known for trying things in the spur of the moment, most people around me sought me for advice when unsure about taking new leaps and bounds in their lives. Believe it or not, I was and sometimes still am, known as the voice of wisdom in these parts. Not because I am so bright or intelligent and live an exemplary life, but because I live from a place of fearlessness. A place most dare not venture. To most, a safe life is a sure life. I have always been surrounded by those who prefer the safe, controlled, predictable life. Boring. The audience to my life have been voyeurs to my adventures, failures and mistakes. They have also seen me rise from failures, rebound and bounce back from more losses, hurts and the struggles incurred from said adventures. To me, the risks were worth it.
The other day I was paralyzed by the thought of living alone-at night, in a house, not an apartment or townhouse or condo-a house. That was something I would have never, ever paused to consider in the past. Not even once. Fear. I’d never known it before. Or, is it wisdom to consider safety as a factor when house hunting? Yes, I believe it is. Now, the time has come that the adventurer in me must bow to the wiser, more patient, mature, non-dreamer in me. The sage, has aged.
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