Living Dangerously

I want to be dangerous.

Among the many appealing traits of a larger-than-life hero (Sherlock Holmes, Batman, Aslan) is the visceral satisfaction you get when the villain sees just who he’s up against and blanches.  Am I the only one who finds this moment peculiarly delightful? 

Sauron is poised to take over Middle Earth, when Aragorn whips out the Palantir and reveals himself  – and what does Sauron do?  He freaks out.  The biggest bad in Middle Earth since Morgoth, and he panics, sends out the troops, and completely overlooks the short people trekking up his volcano.  Nice.

Over and over the Doctor arrives, and after sinking into trouble up to his neck, he sighs and makes introductions:  Guess who you’ve poked with a stick, you idiots: me!  The lanky, leather jacket/bow-tie/fez-wearing Oncoming Storm himself.  Mass flailing of robots and aliens!  So cool.

After nine seasons of tragedy, misery, and kicking butt, what has Jack Bauer successfully earned, besides a retirement he’ll never get?  A nigh-on limitless supply of these moments – just one blenching terrorist after another.  It never gets old.

This brings us to Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother.  She was wife of George VI, mother to the current Queen Elizabeth, and came to the throne not long before the bombs started dropping on London.  Not a great time to be Queen, I would imagine.  But she smiled and stayed calm and was tough.  When she was asked if she’d be sending her daughters to the country for safety, she said, "The girls will not leave unless I do. I will not leave unless the King does. And the King will not leave under any circumstances whatsoever."  All the ordinary, stolid, wartime British people loved her.  She was a morale boost, just by existing.  She made you want to cling on by your fingernails and keep fighting.

Adolph Hitler called her “the most dangerous woman in Europe.” 

You can spot the hero by how much trouble they’re giving the villain.

So that’s what I’m aiming to do.

Today I begin my campaign to harass the Enemy.  He’s a master of physical and psychological warfare, but I have better resources: my Commanding Officer sorted him once, and He’ll do it again.  Until He gets back, though, it’s guerrilla warfare for me.  The good that my Enemy would prefer to be left undone I will make my primary goal.  Those people currently undergoing his worst attacks will get my full support and friendship.  He will not have it all his way, if I can help it.

I want to be dangerous.

Who’s with me?

 

 

Alone Time

As counterintuitive as it seems to girl whose life has always been blessedly abuzz with people, sometimes it's good to be alone.

Last Wednesday I made some hasty, eleventh-hour plans to join friends for a movie.  These plans were all the more spotty because they had been made without due consideration for the particular complexities of big city theaters, such as parking, tickets, and being able to get in the doors on bargain-ticket-night (the latter I didn't even attempt). 

The good news?  There will be other nights to join friends for a movie.  The momentary bad news?  I was all dressed up with nowhere to go.  And my first thought was, I guess I'm going home.

Followed by this revolutionary notion:

…or……..I could just not do that.

 

 

So I took myself out on a date.  I picked another theater, with plenty of time before my showing.  It was a beautiful night and I walked around the park, watching kids play in the water jets and couples snog on benches.  I drank a cup of cocoa in a glass coffee shop, and I didn't pull out my phone to text or check Facebook.  I let my mind wander, which it needed, because it's had a lot to do lately. 

I haven't had many pauses  to consider if I'm changing in the right direction.

You see, sometimes I wonder if on this steep learning curve of new city, new church, new friends, new work, new worries I'll come out the other end and be… not myself.  I don't mind the thought of improving, but I want to still be me.  I've always been an optimist; I've always been able to fall asleep easily; I've never had much trouble setting aside a negative in favor of a positive.  I feel like these parts of me are slipping ― certainly, I'm writing this at 2am, so the sleep thing is definitely on the skids. 

This process of sorting out how much of me is 'me', and how much of me has been my surroundings or my old habits or my family will take time.

And I think it may take more being alone.

God didn't give me any blinding answers to my questions tonight (though I did catch a hint of, "Lean harder, Sarah.  I'm here."), but just letting it be quiet for a while… that helped.

Plus, there's this:

I left my movie at midnight.  Rain had come and gone while I was inside, leaving behind only petrichor and reflective puddles.  And when I crossed the deserted crosswalk, I realized I still bounce when I walk.

It's a doofy quirk, but one I like. 

It's nice to know it's still in there.