Brochure Living
I was dropping a friend off at this hotel the other night when I noticed one of those displays that is chock-full of a thousand brochures for things to do around the area. The choices were overwhelming, like choosing coffee at Starbucks. Most people that would pick one of these up probably already come to Colorado with expectations and visions of adventure provoked by other brochures: Rafting a river – which might kill you this time of year. Hiking a peak. Fly-fishing a secluded river. Mountain biking some beautiful single-track.
All things that most people just read or hear about, but never actually do.
They sound great. One’s heart might even start to race just considering the possibilities. And, yet, so few actually make the move, take the plunge, hike the peak. Who knows why? They just don’t.
Time and Time again there is this offer before me, like being handed a brochure of my dreams. One that silences me. I used to think the silence was out of awe. Now I think it might be out of a fear to choose. The offer is for a Life that is far more than I could imagine and everything I’ve ever dreamed. A life that is very much “me,” living in my own skin 100%.
But for some reason I’ve remained silent, lately.
As I was chewing over why, I was reminded of a trip I made last year to Hawaii. I had been wanting to go surf the islands for years, had read about the different places, watched Riding Giants, even got as far as plane flights the year before. But one thing or another kept me from actually going… until last March when I had the time off work and enough moxy to just go. Part of why I had held back is because I didn’t feel I deserved it. Once I was flying over the Pacific, I could feel the air in my lungs… I was breathing… because I was stepping into something I knew was good for my heart.
Even after I got there, though, I had to keep choosing to step out and take risks to fully enjoy the trip. I was invited by some locals I had met hours before to go eat sushi in Haleiwa and ended up spending hours and hours into a late night trading stories, talking life . I went scuba diving for the first time, and swam with sharks in a cave. I got tooled in mega-surf with my buddy Erik surf-kayaking for my first time. Not to mention surfing legendary Velzyland.
It was some of the most fun I had experienced in years. I could feel the blood flowing into areas of my heart that had been in drought for I don’t know how long. I felt more in my skin.
THEN, I came home.
I was sick for a few weeks, my girlfriend was distant, and then broke up with me. I also left the full-time construction business for good.
Somewhere in all these things I came to believe that living in my own skin isn’t always worth the consequences. I am not saying the events following Hawaii were directly related, but they sure felt that way… and I am pretty sure my relationship ended with the gal at some level because I was living more in my skin. It was inevitable. But it doesn’t make the hurt I suffered any less. The consequences were enough to hold me back next time the offer for Life came around again.
I’ve been looking at the brochures of Life being offered me. Ooohing and Aahhhing over the possibilities, the adventures, dreaming of what it could be like. And then choosing silence. Not walking away. But not taking the risks and actually going either.
“The last time,” my brain tells me, “you took a risk towards life you got the shit beat out of you. Let’s not go through that again.”
But now I recognize that the fallout was actually for my good in the long run, and was going to happen sooner or later. When I stop looking at the brochure and throw down and go… it’s always good. Scary. Unnerving. But good and blood flowing. Ah the risks of living…
All things that most people just read or hear about, but never actually do.
They sound great. One’s heart might even start to race just considering the possibilities. And, yet, so few actually make the move, take the plunge, hike the peak. Who knows why? They just don’t.
Time and Time again there is this offer before me, like being handed a brochure of my dreams. One that silences me. I used to think the silence was out of awe. Now I think it might be out of a fear to choose. The offer is for a Life that is far more than I could imagine and everything I’ve ever dreamed. A life that is very much “me,” living in my own skin 100%.
But for some reason I’ve remained silent, lately.
As I was chewing over why, I was reminded of a trip I made last year to Hawaii. I had been wanting to go surf the islands for years, had read about the different places, watched Riding Giants, even got as far as plane flights the year before. But one thing or another kept me from actually going… until last March when I had the time off work and enough moxy to just go. Part of why I had held back is because I didn’t feel I deserved it. Once I was flying over the Pacific, I could feel the air in my lungs… I was breathing… because I was stepping into something I knew was good for my heart.
Even after I got there, though, I had to keep choosing to step out and take risks to fully enjoy the trip. I was invited by some locals I had met hours before to go eat sushi in Haleiwa and ended up spending hours and hours into a late night trading stories, talking life . I went scuba diving for the first time, and swam with sharks in a cave. I got tooled in mega-surf with my buddy Erik surf-kayaking for my first time. Not to mention surfing legendary Velzyland.
It was some of the most fun I had experienced in years. I could feel the blood flowing into areas of my heart that had been in drought for I don’t know how long. I felt more in my skin.
THEN, I came home.
I was sick for a few weeks, my girlfriend was distant, and then broke up with me. I also left the full-time construction business for good.
Somewhere in all these things I came to believe that living in my own skin isn’t always worth the consequences. I am not saying the events following Hawaii were directly related, but they sure felt that way… and I am pretty sure my relationship ended with the gal at some level because I was living more in my skin. It was inevitable. But it doesn’t make the hurt I suffered any less. The consequences were enough to hold me back next time the offer for Life came around again.
I’ve been looking at the brochures of Life being offered me. Ooohing and Aahhhing over the possibilities, the adventures, dreaming of what it could be like. And then choosing silence. Not walking away. But not taking the risks and actually going either.
“The last time,” my brain tells me, “you took a risk towards life you got the shit beat out of you. Let’s not go through that again.”
But now I recognize that the fallout was actually for my good in the long run, and was going to happen sooner or later. When I stop looking at the brochure and throw down and go… it’s always good. Scary. Unnerving. But good and blood flowing. Ah the risks of living…