That Gut Feeling

When we're put in a situation that requires us to choose..say between right and wrong, yes or no, with or without cheese..we often tend to think too hard. Be it the simplest of choices or the matter-of-life-and-death decisions, we try and weigh out the pros and cons, get a second opinion or even toss a coin.

But how many times have we relied on that coin to help come to a conclusion only for us to toss again. 'Let's just do best out of three.'
Because sometimes you don't need to think so hard. Turns out the answer's at the tip of your tongue..regurgitated from your gut. We ought to give more credit to that gut feeling people keep going on about.

You know how hard it is to seperate cotton if you pull really hard, but when you just tug at it lightly the pieces seperate with cushiony ease? Maybe we're not supposed to try so hard. Maybe sometimes the answer's just there..waiting for you to look up and take notice.

And when asked why you chose this rather than that, you can't explain it. It just feels right.

Fearing Regret / Regretting Fear

In my opinion, the scariest thing in the whole world is the fear of the unknown.

It's like you're hanging off a cliff in pitch black...not knowing whether to let go, or hang on until help arrives. Because for all you know, the floor could be littered with jagged rocks waiting to rip you to pieces as soon as you loose grip. On the other hand, there could be a strategically placed collection of puffy cushions...arranged to make sure you feel no pain when you fall.

Do you take the risk? Do you have nothing to lose?

Most rational fears boil down to this one thing...not knowing what's going to happen next. You're terrified of heights because just about anything could happen while you're up there. Take that moment of realization when you've taken a wrong turn into unexplored territory for instance, or that chill when face-to-face with an aggressor. If you had been pre-warned that the assailant was going to first aim for face, you'd know to stick up your hand and protect it. And if you had a map in hand, you'd discover where exactly you were, and figure out the easiest route to get you back on track.

But what when you don't? What when you don't have that manual that defines which part fits into outlet B. When you don't have the blurg to a book that tells you what's inside? Or when you don't have a recipe, but just the ingredients. What do you do then?

You're scared shitless that you've made the wrong decision. That after taking a right at the fork, you realize that you should have taken the left one all along.

And after that?
I suppose we could regret. Swear at the circumstances. Blame the sun for falling in your eyes even. Or we could make it work for us.

I just saw this documentary, where this one man in a war-torn country decided to take a new route to walk to work one day. Less than halfway through his trek, he tripped on a rock, fell on a landmine, and lost his arms for good. He spoke of his remorse. How for the first few years he lived every day regretting having ever taken that alternative route.
But now this man...he writes with his feet. He wakes up each morning, brushes his teeth and puts on his clothes everyday...using just his feet.

It's a terrible thing to afflict anyone sure...but I feel that sometimes shit happens to strong people, to serve as inspiration for the not so strong. Just like we follow the lives of Hollywood personas, the struggling and torn turn to others as messed up for guidance, reassurance and faith.

So that maybe one day they too can let go of their regret, move on, and be ready to make a decision again with fear as fresh and raw as the previous one.

Easier said than done of course. But this is just me, and my curiosity getting the better of me; rying to find a loophole in the document labelled 'Unfair.'

The Way the Cookie Crumbles

I've always loved fortune cookies. Ever since I was that fat kid who'd pig out on chinese food (sad, but true), I'd wait for the end of the meal to the part they served up those absurdly shaped biscuits. I'd pick the one I thought held my fortune, and believe with all my heart that that cookie was meant for just me.

I still love those darned cookies. But now that i'm aware that the odds of someone else getting my fortune is quite likely, the magic's gone. Also the fact that all the cookie ever tells you is what you already know...only in a more mysterious-seeming way.
I recall my last one stating that: "He who rushes, does not walk with dignity." It sounds so sensai'ish when you first read it, but it's not long before you realize the diplomat in that biscuit.


One thing I never was into was horoscopes. I never understood the thrill of living each day to see if that daily prediction came true. I never did give a hoot that I'm a Libran, neither have I shown any form of excitement when encountering another(trust me I know people who do).

What I don't understand is how perfectly intelligent human beings can reach out for that page religiously each morning, and believe that whatever stated is what's to be in store for the day. Do you not realize that a gazillion other Scorpio(n?)s are opening up to that same page, reading the exact same thing, and again coming to the conclusion that they're ready for the day. Beacuse now they know what to expect.
In that case, all pisces' are to expect to meet a tall, dark stranger at noon today. Or expect a surprise visitor at the break of dawn. Sorry..but I don't buy it.

The scary bit, is that some are so drawn into this prediction hype that they come to sub-conciously make their prediction happen. In his/her head that surprise visitor could even be the grocery boy delivering his/her order earlier than expected. Or afore-mentioned tall, dark stranger could just turn out to be a cardboard cut-out of Will Smith.


What is it that attracts us so magnetically to needing to know what's in store for us? Sort of like a friend leaking out the end of a perfectly good movie, (or even a terrible one at that), don't horoscopes, fortune-tellers, etc. threathen to do just that?
Maybe it's just human nature to be lured to the unknown..the intrigue of the mysterious. Sort of like a real-life game of cluedo.

Eitherway, I'm starting to understand how curiosity killed that infamous cat.


Cheers.

Help Yourself.

We live in a troubled world my friends. A world filled with people so disturbed, that we turn to other human beings to quell our fears..for a fee.

Therapists, Lifecoaches, Self-help books; turns out you can make a living doing just about anything.A series of therapeutic sessions on 'positive thinking'and 'prioritizing your goals' is guaranteed to have you up and running in no time; be it with regards to a career change, a relationship boost, or just plain feeling good about yourself.

Erm..don't we have friends for that very reason? When you're down or a tad de-motivated, yor pals will comfort you, feed you a tub of icecream and make you feel on top of the world again. You even better friends will rip that tub out of your hands, order you to get a hold of yourself, and push you back with a jolt so severe you'll end up with whiplash. And they do this for free!

I can understand if this is some tradition handed down for centuries. But it's a new fad, this. I understand and sympatjize with real issues; like the loss of a child, or an addiction. But do we really need to hire someone just because they let you lie on their couch and make 'hmmm..' noises while you whinge about not having gotten that promotion at work?

All self-help books state the obvious. Laugh more often, see the best in people, bake your potatoes instead of frying them. And if you pay more attention, you'll figure out that Dr.Phil an Oprah are dishing out the exact same advice your mother used to.

I know i'm not exactly the ideal canditate to be picketing against unnecessary therapy..the best advice i've ever given anyone is 'RUN!' But realistically speaking, you don't have to drag sigmund freud from the grave to tell you that all problems aren't solved by just holding hands in a circle. Speaking from experience (and quoting Boyzone): When the going gets tough, the tough get going.


Dammit! If I had just sold this piece to a publisher, and not posted it on this stupid blog, I would've made a fortune!! Sigh..



Cheers.