They said think before you leap, or you will slip.
They said think before you speak, or else you will spend your life eating your words.
They said be guarded, be disciplined, learn to manage your urges, to control yourself, get a hold of yourself for crying loud. Do not let your nerves stray out in the prickly wild unattended, they said. Hold your nerves on a short leash, a very short leash so you can learn living a life of restraint.
So I used my head.
I thought before I leaped.
I thought before I spoke. (tried to).
I held my nerves on a short leash and the long result was that every time they warmed up in such a natural rise of excitement, I held them back in vehement defiance, submitting any decision to risk analyses and profit and loss speculations and quadratic equations where I searched for the tangent and the coefficient and balanced the books to make sure the assets outweighed the liabilities. I am now an expert on human risk analyses.
But look where my head has got me.
The natural reward of fulfilment on following one’s instincts has been replaced by the metal-nerved lifelessness of insurance policy sellers who suck the very life out of life by seeing everything through the faulty spectacles of profit and loss.
So I do not want to use my head, this time round.
The tide is high and the risks are even higher.
The sea is blowing with a fury of an angered evil spirit. So maybe the ship could sink, heck, it actually may sink. But I will choose to go out to sea. And not sit by my laurels on the shore, watching for the sailors surging majestically on a billowing tide.