Doing It Anyway

Much of life consists of defiance: rather than take that nap, a toddler plays – and falls asleep, usually on top of the Legos, leaving that telltale sign of product placement, forgive the pun. The child who feels the oppression of rules, skips out of the house at midnight – and either gets away with it temporarily, or falls face-first onto the ground. The adults who open their own business do so in the face of statistics that indicate it’s probably not a good idea right now to invest money in a small business. They do it anyway. Rather than a discussion about choices and negative consequences, this is an acknowledgement that much of what is good about our lives as adults is what we do in spite of the odds.

My perspective is admittedly skewed, because as a basically law-abiding human person, I don’t really consider drugs or Ashley Madison accounts or theft as reasonable ways to spend my time — not because of some high and mighty belief set, but because I don’t like the idea of hurting myself or others. Kind of a simple life philosophy, but it works for me.

What I’m thinking about are the chances we take even when we don’t have the world’s greatest evidence that the chances will work out well. I married a guy, even though the odds were 50/50 at best that we’d get divorced. I married him anyway and smushily and embarrassingly love him all the more now that we’ve got some bumps and bruises from living life together. I switched careers at a time when the education profession had a surplus of teachers. I did it anyway, and have been happily engaging in that learning and teaching cycle for 13ish years.

I wanted to write more often and realized this morning as I was huffing it out at the gympeople place that my contributions to the internet have dwindled from twice a week, to once a week, to once a month kinda. Part of the reason had to do with my basic couch potato tendencies; mostly it had to do with self-doubt. Self-doubt is nothing more than stopping myself from doing something I love. I notice that I miss my time spent with imaginary friends around a philosophical roundtable, and that I’ve been denying myself a place at that table simply because my id and ego have been battling it out lately. Since I’m the boss of my prefrontal cortex, I’m writing anyway.




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