The illusion of safety
I need a hand with something. Here's a brainteaser for you all: We can make ourselves happy in life but can we make ourselves safe?
We spend the entirety of our lives searching for happiness, striving for it, dedicating all our time to it. It is our mission in life. It is what we all want in life, not one person on this planet does not want it. Sometimes it can be solely in our hands. But can we do the same for security? Can we guarantee ourselves to be safe and secure?
Or is it that comfort zone we are essentially looking for? (like I previously wrote about: http://www.andrewgranville.blogspot.com/2010/08/change.html ) Is that where happiness and security lie together, embraced forever in the same king-size bed? Are they compatible? Are they soul mates? Is it a marriage that will last? Or is it an illusion?
In my mind, I think it is more like being on a raft than a nice big bed. And life is like white water rafting - none of that leisurely, punting on a smooth lake-stuff, oh no sir-ee. We go down a river called Life, a bumpy ride surrounded by rapids of uncertainty and confusion, swooping over and plummeting under. It can be hard to navigate, it can be so damn difficult to see if ahead there is another set of foaming rapids to weave through or if it is a huge drop of a waterfall in to a deep plunge pool. We take safety precautions by putting on life jackets and a helmet, even strap ourselves to the dinghy. Are we making ourselves safe? Is that in our power?
Maybe we are in fate's hands. But with all the dodging, diving, slaps of icy water in the face and then the drop, if we get through it, if we try and we if we manage, it's a hell of a ride.
Do we feel safe in ourselves? I know I am more than capable of looking after myself. I was born the oldest brother and that syndrome is deep in my DNA, to look out for others. I want them all to be safe, all of my nearest and dearest. I wish I could just sign on the dotted line where I could guarantee that for them.
It gets me thinking of where I'll end up. Where I will settle if you like, if that will ever happen. Fate is the hand on my shoulder guiding me here I think. If my heart had hands, my life would be throbbing in their clasp. I am English born and bred, yet I have laid roots in Italy. Let's see how Spain turns out. I know I can't guarantee anything here. I keep asking fate to redraft the contract. I know you need roots to establish something, but you need wings to fly on to your dreams.
A can of Red Bull please, bartender.