Let's not go for safe

I say it because I want to do it myself. I don’t want  to be afraid, I hate being afraid. I want to be able to say no when I have to and stay committed to my yes when I let it out.

I want to tell a story that includes the crazy, bitter, nerve wrecking, heart wrenching, and adrenaline rushing side of life. I want a heart that’s steady not because it is overly protected but because it has been through worst and it knows too well, that there’s always a way out.

I want to be open to the possibilities of getting hurt, of being bruised even to the point of hitting rock bottom.

I want to bleed not for the sake of bleeding. I want it because what if the things that hurt are actually the things that make up the beautiful?

A mother giving birth to her child.

A caterpillar waiting ‘til it becomes a butterfly.

A gold being refined by fire.

What if the things I am most afraid of are actually the things that will lead me to where my heart belongs? What if the ugly and the messy are prelude to something grand?

I say let’s not go for safe because safe cuddles excessive fear. It shelters doubts and it covers reservations.

Let’s not go for safe because it takes commitment out of the equation. Commitment is courage. It is bold, strong and resolute. No, it is not the whiffle-waffle thing.

I will not go for safe, no matter how my heart trembles just by writing about it because I know that I am stronger than I think I am. And should boldness suck the best of me, (yeah, courage also hurts) I’ll just tap the dirt off my sleeves and try again. That’s life, isn’t it? It is not a one-sided affair with the good. I take it. I can live with it. I’d choose it over safe because safe is dead end.

And if there’s any consolation from welcoming all the risks, it will be the realization that my heart is always tougher than it seems.