Living in a small town and seeing only the people I had known for years made me feel safe, and safety is a nice feeling, but only to a point. Without any challenges, I soon grow lethargic and my life becomes repetitive. It took me a long time to come out of my shell, and I still have a long way to go, I'm sure.
One day a few years ago I was riding with my mom down 80 West, and we were discussing this.
She pointed out the flower bushes growing in the highway median. She told me to imagine how they must feel, bombarded constantly by speeding cars, unprotected from the elements, sprayed with chemicals. But they weren't shying away or withered. They were blooming brightly and their branches were winding around and overtaking the manmade dividers, unhindered by their surroundings.
What can one accomplish being afraid to live?
Safety is an illusion anyhow. At any moment I could get hit by a car, my house could get broken into, I could get held up at gunpoint, I could have a brain hemorrhage and drop dead . Or those things could never happen. To live in fear accomplishes nothing.
Every time I drive through Davis now, I notice those bushes and I remember how fucking much I love my mom.
No comments:
Post a Comment