The hard notion at dawn:
A tale of black rabbits and the fortune of being human.
Sometimes, it seems, that being human is downright unreasonable. We're limited creatures, with limited means, limited time, and limited energy, yet we're hardwired to want to experience everything. It's impossible on the best of days, yet there's really no way to quell the hunger. It expands, it consumes, it always wants more. More what? More experiences, more memories, more moments we can hang onto in the withering hours of our physical selves. It's a maddening proposition -- and it's one of the best things about being human.
Death unquestionably underlines this sensation. It's a stark reminder of our frailty, that there may come a day when we realize there are moments missed, feelings we never expressed, and strangers we didn't get to know at parties. The rabbit represents everything left unchecked on our bucket list, it's the lovers we lost or, worse still, the ones we never found the courage yet to pursue. To put it in its most simplest form, it is regret.
In death, or simply in the day to day that follows (and it always does), it's easy to point out the futility, easy to latch onto the fear of uselessness. Everything dies and nobody can do everything, so what then becomes the point? Why take risks? Why put yourself out there, with your heart on your sleeve? Why take any chances on anything at all? The question of why becomes relentless and, again, that's one of the best things about being human.
The 'Why' is the drive. It's the question worth answering every time it pops up. Why take risks? Take risks because it's the only way to find out what's out there. Why put yourself out there with your heart on your sleeve? Do it because you just might forge some real magic. Why take chance on anything? You never know what could happen if you do and, to highlight the worst point of all, you might one day find yourself wishing you had.
It's not unreasonable to be afraid. The world we live in rarely lends itself well to this kind of optimism. People will burn you, betray you, even accidentally, and you can be damn sure a good number of them will disappoint, disgust, or otherwise repulse you. There's a clause to that though, a flip-side to all those points that is relatively essential toward living in a world with people like these and in times like we do.
That perspective? Not all of them will.
It's sensible these days, in a world so fractured by a sense of belonging that we all feel somewhat alien, to be afraid. It's sensible to not want to risk damages by being present, or by speaking words, or even by placing a kindness in the lap of a stranger. It's sensible to be afraid to fall in love or to change your job. It's sensible to want to keep your comforts, to keep the same roof and the same four walls beyond the same borders. There are innumerable reasons to not do anything and everything, but all those reasons come down to you -- and very few of them are fair to yourself.
What about it is so frightening? What about it makes you want to grab the brick and mortal, then dig a moat and build a wall? It's the question that needs be asked, though I don't in good conscience suggest it when you have anything to do the following morning. This question will lead you down some heavy roads, with fog so thick no light's going to get you all the way through. It's a scene from a bad movie, where the music has gone dead and you're just waiting for the monster to leap out of the darkness.
When it doesn't come, when the fog leaves only silence behind? Then there's something passing you by for nothing. What it ultimately comes down to you didn't ask, you didn't take a step, you didn't let yourself for whatever reason. Now a moment has passed you by, because the whole world has turned into your blind spot, and you're stuck with yet another check mark in the column of 'What if',
It's where the advocating for being selfish comes from. Maybe it seems arrogant to make the whole world about you, to center every action on yourself, and I can't argue that it isn't. What I can say is that it's often essential. You're not going to live forever, you don't have limitless opportunities to roam the streets with nothing but the blind hope of getting drunk on experience. You don't have an endless string of people you can let pass you by, slip through your fingers, or pass on because you're to afraid to open your mouth (or heart) and let the words come out.
You're human, you're hardwired for curiosity, to ask the questions, and there's nothing wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with you thinking or over thinking a scenario until it literally has you crippled and immobile. It's not going to make you happy, you certainly can't plan for everything anyway, but that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with trying. The catch comes though with the idea that each moment you spend trying to think of what to do is a moment you spend not really doing anything.
You're human, you're supposed to do things. You're built to learn, to question, to travel, to adventure, to be curious, and to just go. Yes, sure, you've come a long way from the ocean and the trees, yes being prudent of possible misfortunes and bad ideas is impartive to survival and longevity, but what's the point of it always? What does always worrying about what could be get you, save the likely outcome of a handful of 'didn't'?
It's those 'times I didn't', those 'wished I had' moments, that lead to late night troubles and a constant checking to see where the sand is at on the hourglass. It's what leaves otherwise sensible humans sitting on back steps, smoking too many cigarettes while pondering. They're ghosts of a past left unattended, of a future unrealized. They're what makes the fear of putting your heart out there, of being hungry, of wanting more, feel so important. They're the things you want the least of when the black rabbit comes around.
So take a chance sometimes, be the unreasonable human that you are. Do things that drain the bank account for nothing but a good time. Laugh with a stranger on foreign streets. Give yourself the chance to feel for someone who even just might be special and be okay if that person ends up being you. Hang onto your goals, but don't be afraid to change them and, most importantly? Recognize you're own irrationality, that your wants and hopes you so easily talk yourself out of, are just as irrational as the means by which you do so.
You're a fantastic and wonderful human being and, while there's absolutely no point in denying that your existence here is temporary, there's also no reason not to do everything you can to try and enjoy as much of it as possible. The worst that happens is that it won't pan out and that's always better than the gnawing hunger for the 'Could have been'.
