Happy Friday! Well, Saturday now. My apologies for this late post, but I had some severe technological issues yesterday that prevented me from posting this yesterday. But what is a delay, save for a chance to try again? So here we go. Remember when you were learning to drive? Remember hearing this term, defensive driving? I do. I was taught that it meant that I needed to drive under the expectation that other drivers could possibly cause harm to my vehicle–either through illegal turns, running red lights, lane changes, etc. I needed to be alert and aware that danger lurked behind the wheel of every vehicle and driving was a dangerous task. As I ponder that idea, it has occurred to me that I was taught the same thing about life. I wasn’t taught that life is full of joy and love. On the contrary, I was taught that life is hard and full of struggle and danger. I was taught that I needed to live defensively–being aware that any and almost every body in my life meant me harm and I needed to protect myself from said hard. It has permeated every facet of my life, save for Motherhood. I grew up expecting the worst from others–even in the most benign of situations. It’s strange to think about now because I wonder how much more could I have enjoyed life (and my father as well) if I’d recognized this sooner? Just think about it. Defensive driving makes sense, but defensive living? I’m not so sure. I’m not saying that there isn’t danger in the world. I recognize that it exists. However, I know for me, life hasn’t been nearly as bad as I’ve anticipated it to be. And I’m not so sure that living defensively (not to be mistaken for living on the edge), has served me as well as I intended.
*About a month ago, I spoke about how we can actually become addicted to the negative experiences in our lives and this is one of the ways it can begin.