Somebody who was undoubtedly zen-like said, “All things in moderation” – it was probably Benjamin Franklin or someone wise like he. I, however, am not wise because I simply can’t do things in moderation. Try as I might it just isn’t my thing.
I’m either all in or all out. I sometimes wonder where this predisposition came from. My mother, my father? Some eccentric old auntie whose name slips past my consciousness? For all I know it could have been a neighbor dog I bonded with when I was three. Whoever or whatever it was, sure gave me the attitude early on since that’s just been the story of my life.
For instance, I don’t just drive to work in the morning – I have a freeking adventure. I’m simply not happy to drive quietly, listening to the radio as I make my way to whatever destination is slated for the day. Nope, I have to utter editorial comment, driving instruction and sometimes serious insult to those sharing the road with me. I know, I know, it probably comes as a shock to some of you -–sweet Annie being mean to other drivers, hanging out the window and telling them they should be home watching Good Morning America, so the rest of us can be safe – but what can I say? I’m a passionate person.
If I love something I really love it. I can’t shut up about it and friends have been known to screen my calls when I’ve made a new discovery because they just can’t stand to hear one more word about the miraculous benefits of roller ball pens or MSM or chocolate over bananas for breakfast. Conversely if I hate something I really hate it. I can’t stand to have it around me, to think about it to have others think about it or say a word about it. Well, maybe it’s not that bad but you get the picture.
Sometimes I think this is a real flaw in my character too. I see others living relatively smooth, even lives, going along like a sail boat on smooth waters and I think, that would be nice. I would like that. Yet, whenever things are just too even, too predictable I get antsy and nervous. It’s just too, I don’t know…normal? Even? Calm? It just doesn’t feed my passion.
Other times I think it’s really the only way to be. If you’re going to live life, why not make it a circus parade and interesting? Why not wear your passion on your sleeve for all to see? You might as well be interested in what you’re doing, seeing, hearing, feeling, right? It certainly does provide fodder for writing. And maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s why I am that way or maybe because I am that way is why I write. Could be potato/potaatoe?
How about you? Are you all in or all out? Calm and serene or passionate and wild? Moderate or over the top?