The Tortoise and the Scorpion

Today on the way home from work, trying to clear my mind and remember all I may have forgotten for my trip to Buffalo, I was listening to This American Life. This episode was dedicated to the life of David Rakoff. I'd heard him many times on the broadcast and love his work. Today, I heard more than I bargained for. The piece ended with a rhyming couplet, story he wrote about giving a speech at a wedding. The main character, Nathan, gives this toast to the bride and groom...the bride was once his girlfriend and the groom, his best mate.

Through the story, Nathan tells the fable, "The Tortoise and the Scorpion." Read the transcript of the story here.

A quick summary of the fable: The Scorpion asks the Tortoise for a ride across the river. The Tortoise says no..."I know you, you'll sting me." The Scorpion pleads with the Tortoise, offering the argument, "If I sting you, we will both drown." Of course, the Tortoise agrees...only to be stung and killed by the Scorpion. The Scorpion only offers that it is in his nature to sting and dies as well.

I have to wonder...Am I the Scorpion? Am I meant to sting? Am I the Tortoise, that knowingly walks into danger, to help someone in need? Of course we all hope to be the Tortoise: He's open. He's trusting. He allows himself to be vulnerable. I feel like I am the Scorpion, most days. While not intending to sting, it is simply in my nature to sting before being stung. I live on the defense. The ending line of the story discusses the moral of the story...

Though it may spell destruction, we still ask for more,
since it beats staying dry, but so lonely on shore.
So we make ourselves open, while knowing full well
it's essentially saying, please, come pierce my shell.

Wow! Talk about hitting home. Meanwhile...I've been reading, Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead by Brene Brown. I just finished her book, The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are. She just released this one and I had to read it.

I know that letting go of things, admitting my vulnerabilities and letting others take control is a personal struggle for me. As I'm rolling over the last read chapter in my brain, I hear this:

Though it may spell destruction, we still ask for more,
since it beats staying dry, but so lonely on shore.
So we make ourselves open, while knowing full well
it's essentially saying, please, come pierce my shell.

We make ourselves open. We allow others into our lives and, knowing full well they can pierce our shells, we have to open or remain alone on the shore. We need the constant connection of others. Failure is ok. Failure is a human experience. While failure may happen, we may hurt each other, we may get hurt: it beats staying dry, but so lonely on shore.

Six Whole Weeks!

I am as shocked as everyone else. Six weeks ago, I moved here...six. Sure, maybe for you, six weeks isn't a big deal, but for me, I've moved a mountain. I'm growing to love my home. I'm slowly venturing out of my comfort zone and exploring this new town. I'm still not totally sold on being here forever, but I'm really liking it right now.

Yep, pink is my signature color.

First off, I really miss my sister. She's my best friend. I miss sitting up way too late chatting with her about everything under the sun. Yes, we have Skype and phones, but still.
Secondly, I miss inviting a group of people over for dinner and company. I know these days will return as I make new friends down here. I'm working on that.

Today's target.

I have started going to a gun range to conquer my unknown fear of handguns. I had no idea when I went to ladies night last week that holding a gun in my hand would make me shake. I screamed the first time I fired it and it took 50 rounds to feel better.

I did it. I went alone, I met people, I fired a gun. Today, I went back. I thought I could handle a larger weapon and I was defeated. I went back to the .22 and felt much better. I'll have to work my way up to the 9mm.

I was so freaked out by this 9mm that I didn't stop shaking for 3 hours after the session. I guess that's why I never hit that stupid x. Oh well...maybe later.