On Jumping, Living, and More Than Not Dying
A decade ago, I saw a kids’ movie in the theater with my two (at the time) girls, and a line from that film has stuck with me ever since. Don’t laugh — the movie was The Croods. Yup, the one about the cavemen. Er, cave-family, I suppose.
The premise of the whole movie was that the dad wanted everyone to stay in the cave, so they could stay “safe.” At one point, the rebellious teen daughter who wanted to go out in the world flat-out refused to go back into a cave and exclaimed, “That wasn't LIVING! That was just … Not dying!"
Living is different than … not dying.
But sometimes living can be pretty damn scary. But it beats being stuck in a rut. I’ve shared before about how Justin and I were just starting to emerge from chaos in our own lives when covid hit. And then it was three more years of a different kind of chaos, with every message being pounded into our heads “better safe than sorry.”
I have never been one to ascribe to the “better safe than sorry” way of life. When I was a kid, I was the one who jumped into the deep end of the pool without even feeling the water first. I climbed every tree higher than any boy I knew, even when the branches swayed in the breeze. I whizzed across the cul-de-sac the very first time I ever put roller blades on, like I knew what I was doing.
It hasn’t always worked out. I never fell out of a tree, but I did crash and burn on those roller blades, and broke my wrist in three places when I was 10. And I was wearing wrist guards — I really, really bit the concrete.
Also that whole jumping into marriage at 19 didn’t quite work out either, but it could have worked out. And when it didn’t, I was ready to jump into divorced life and single motherhood, even though the idea was terrifying.
Here’s how most of the decisions in my life have gone so far:
Step one: Think of an idea
Step two: Commit to the idea and jump
Step three: Immediately after jumping, wonder what the hell made me think this was a good idea because omg what did I get myself into and how the hell am I going to pull this off?
Step four: Outcomes vary, but never regret the jump
Last September, I made another big commitment in my life — to become the president of our local chapter of a national mother-daughter charity organization. I had quit my full time job in May 2022 (another jump, because of course), and there was a need. Since we didn’t move to Florida last summer (an almost jump), and I had time on my hands, and really wanted to get involved in my community more … it just made sense.
Since September I have been the president-elect; attending board meetings, voting on various motions within the chapter, and volunteering in my community with Cordelia and attending cultural and social events. It’s been pretty marvelous and I’ve gotten to know some pretty cool women!
I’m officially taking over as president on June 1, and this is the point mid-jump where I’m starting to question why I ever thought committing to this was a good idea. Our current president asked me to take over presiding duties at our last board meeting this past Thursday as she was out of town, and there was a lot on the docket. I was … scared.
What if I did something wrong?
What if I upset someone?
What if I forgot something?
What if people thought I was dumb?
What if I was totally in over my head?
What if what if what if what if …
What if I am here in this role because someone needed to jump into it, and I’ve never been afraid to jump? We’ll just figure out the landing on the way down.
The meeting went great, for the record. And for how much stuff there was to cover, I’m not scared of board meetings anymore once I officially take over presidential duties in June. I’m sure there will be moments again when I’ll wonder why I ever signed up for this job, because that’s life. Mostly though, I’m so grateful I jumped in, because the women in this group are gems, and I’m honored to helm our little ship in the community next year.
I haven’t made a secret of the fact that I’ve been in the doldrums a bit in 2023 so far, and I loved the reminder last week that scary things can turn out amazing. That living requires risks, and not adapting “better safe than sorry” as a motto.
Now please excuse me while I get back to planning our DC event on March 29, where I’ve organized citizens from all over the country to fly into the capital to meet with congressional members and senators to let them know that they value their freedom to live their own lives as they choose, and make their own risk assessments without government interference — to just let them live.
Apparently these things are important to me.