knapsack, backpack. and she took some rope.
Lately, I've been asked a lot of questions about my arm. Usually my answer involves the words 'broken', 'snowboarding', 'surgery', and 'vermont.' Sometimes the response is sympathetic, sometimes it reduces my injury to a summation of character: well at least you were doing something cool: you snowboard, and broke your arm = you must have been ripping down that mountain, grrl! Not really true at all. To be honest, I was playing it safe. Gingerly avoiding even the smallest moguls, opting for less rigorous trails, resenting Sam for giving Zach someone to compete with. And then, in a instantaneous display of grace and control, I fell on...was it ice? Sure. Caught myself wrong and broke two bones in my arm. I immediately realized the irony between my actions and their outcome. Being a believer in an external locus of control (though relectantly) - I tried to extract the lesson.
I've lived most of my life as a "safe" person (as opposed to a "risk" person). I usually make safe decisions -- have a plan, know the terrain, take a buddy. This tendency, although technically "right," often makes for some mediocre memories. It's doing what teacher says, it's being a sheep despite the coaching from dad. It's being the person listening. And really - the benefits? Good grades? Assurance? Yeah..okay. I had a conversation with Bill Harmon once about safe vs. risk and later had these thoughts: He said circumstances change the course of what people do. So...a risk taker might jump off a cliff out of a desire for the thrill, but the person who lives safely might come to a cliff one day and have to jump off it. Therefore - everyone can end up doing the same things... But!! If you took the risk - when you came to the cliff later in life - you would already know how to handle it. So - I guess risk takers live more-fulfilled lives? Wise words, Miss Byrne.
And I've seen a trend in my friends/peers to live as a risk-er. Perhaps it's a latent characteristic... The other day I "decided" to join in their free-fall. I went into the unknown, had no idea what the plan was, nor had the means to get back to base. At one moment, I found myself laughing so hard I was shaking - like my body couldn't handle the experience. The outcome - all was pretty much okay. I got yelled at for being irresponsible considering my injury/surgery, but in the moment - everything was fine. Experiment one.
During the days after the surgery (in the hotel with dad and amy), I was very unbalanced physically, mentally, and emotionally. I was still under the effect of the anesthesia, morphine, percocet, and was in quite a bit of pain. Plus - all the girls in my family just cry after being under anesthesia - just happens. Early on there was talk about taking me home until the weekend. I protested, knowing that it would be impossible to get all my work for the week done from home. I was probably crying, but then dad quipped "well, then maybe you'll have to take incompletes and just be done for the semester" which evoked a torrent of sobs from me (I had no idea i liked it here so much!). When I gathered myself I managed to say something like "When you say things like [the above from dad] it makes me feel horrible and sad." He apologized. Dad does not like to apologize. (Beginning of experiment two) Zach visited that night and it was the first time I could stop crying. The next day he called and dad heard me say something like "come over and watch a movie later" and sternly said "No. I said no visitors today! Whoever can wait until tomorrow - you have to rest." Which, of course, made me unable to speak. All i could say was "I have to go now. I love you." There was some silent staring, some crying. During which dad said "You have to rest. This isn't my fault. You have to think about your actions before surgery. Staying out so late, that made you tired, it was really irresponsible - that contributed to how you're feeling now." Perhaps, slightly true. Perhaps. But to BLAME me for feeling bad after surgery!? And assume I would want to...party...instead of snuggle and watch t.v. like the previous night. What really got me was when he said "You're just going to have to deal with it." Took me back to when I was about 7 and had a rat trap snapped on my finger and he told me to stop crying. So after more crying, Amy asked me (in her classic innocent ignorant form) "Would you like to talk about why you are so emotional right now?" I exploded. I was able to tell Dad, for the second time, that his comments were out-of-line and the opposite of helpful. That made me feel raw, and like a bad child. But also -- justified. I stood up for myself, which is a risk against the GSB.
So -- what's my solution? I don't think I can change my nature. But, I've resolved to "do things" more often, instead of just make decisions. I'm going to Bonnaroo. I'm trying to go to Japan. I'm not apologizing for missing Tri-County. I'm talking again. I'm aware that it's contradictory to make a plan to be less structured. So - shove it.
Enough.
Emma.
I've lived most of my life as a "safe" person (as opposed to a "risk" person). I usually make safe decisions -- have a plan, know the terrain, take a buddy. This tendency, although technically "right," often makes for some mediocre memories. It's doing what teacher says, it's being a sheep despite the coaching from dad. It's being the person listening. And really - the benefits? Good grades? Assurance? Yeah..okay. I had a conversation with Bill Harmon once about safe vs. risk and later had these thoughts: He said circumstances change the course of what people do. So...a risk taker might jump off a cliff out of a desire for the thrill, but the person who lives safely might come to a cliff one day and have to jump off it. Therefore - everyone can end up doing the same things... But!! If you took the risk - when you came to the cliff later in life - you would already know how to handle it. So - I guess risk takers live more-fulfilled lives? Wise words, Miss Byrne.
And I've seen a trend in my friends/peers to live as a risk-er. Perhaps it's a latent characteristic... The other day I "decided" to join in their free-fall. I went into the unknown, had no idea what the plan was, nor had the means to get back to base. At one moment, I found myself laughing so hard I was shaking - like my body couldn't handle the experience. The outcome - all was pretty much okay. I got yelled at for being irresponsible considering my injury/surgery, but in the moment - everything was fine. Experiment one.
During the days after the surgery (in the hotel with dad and amy), I was very unbalanced physically, mentally, and emotionally. I was still under the effect of the anesthesia, morphine, percocet, and was in quite a bit of pain. Plus - all the girls in my family just cry after being under anesthesia - just happens. Early on there was talk about taking me home until the weekend. I protested, knowing that it would be impossible to get all my work for the week done from home. I was probably crying, but then dad quipped "well, then maybe you'll have to take incompletes and just be done for the semester" which evoked a torrent of sobs from me (I had no idea i liked it here so much!). When I gathered myself I managed to say something like "When you say things like [the above from dad] it makes me feel horrible and sad." He apologized. Dad does not like to apologize. (Beginning of experiment two) Zach visited that night and it was the first time I could stop crying. The next day he called and dad heard me say something like "come over and watch a movie later" and sternly said "No. I said no visitors today! Whoever can wait until tomorrow - you have to rest." Which, of course, made me unable to speak. All i could say was "I have to go now. I love you." There was some silent staring, some crying. During which dad said "You have to rest. This isn't my fault. You have to think about your actions before surgery. Staying out so late, that made you tired, it was really irresponsible - that contributed to how you're feeling now." Perhaps, slightly true. Perhaps. But to BLAME me for feeling bad after surgery!? And assume I would want to...party...instead of snuggle and watch t.v. like the previous night. What really got me was when he said "You're just going to have to deal with it." Took me back to when I was about 7 and had a rat trap snapped on my finger and he told me to stop crying. So after more crying, Amy asked me (in her classic innocent ignorant form) "Would you like to talk about why you are so emotional right now?" I exploded. I was able to tell Dad, for the second time, that his comments were out-of-line and the opposite of helpful. That made me feel raw, and like a bad child. But also -- justified. I stood up for myself, which is a risk against the GSB.
So -- what's my solution? I don't think I can change my nature. But, I've resolved to "do things" more often, instead of just make decisions. I'm going to Bonnaroo. I'm trying to go to Japan. I'm not apologizing for missing Tri-County. I'm talking again. I'm aware that it's contradictory to make a plan to be less structured. So - shove it.
Enough.
Emma.