Why Discomfort? + My Greatest Fear
In between doing our gymnastic exercises and falling off the apparatuses (or should I say apparatii?), my friend Thomas and me had a prolonged discussion about my new years resolution of only cold showers in 2013.
According to him, I am a nutcase.
I tried to lay out all of the benefits of cold showers to him, including the one with testosterone and increased sex-drive and everything.
But to no avail.
In his opinion the argument of comfort is quite a big one.
“You can see it as a reward after a hard days work” he said.
I grumbled something along the lines of “yeah right, like a gentle wank”.
But he is right.
Comfort is great.
I love rolling around in bed too. And not everything that I do is good for everyone else.
My greatest fear, the one overruling all the others is to look back on my life one day with regret.
Not the kind of regret you get from making mistakes, but the regret of wondering what could have been.
Do you know this feeling when you look back after a beautiful summer vacation, full of warmth, laughter and carelessness?
It always seems like a glimpse in hindsight.
No more than the feeble remainders of a dream when you wake up.
When I die, I want to look back on a lot of crazy stuff, I want to look back on adventure, great sex and making a difference in other people’s lives and awkward moments and family and making mistakes.
You know. The lot.
Nobody ever died and thought ”
“I wish I had spent more time sitting on my ass doing nothing” or “Maybe I should have been more cautious”.
My friend Budo once said: “You know, I am recording this album, not for success, or for money, but because I want to show it to my kids one day and tell them that this is what I did when I was young”. (Check out one of their funky tracks here)
If I have kids one day, I think it’s pretty cool to be able to tell them how I spent a whole year (or more) without the comfort of a warm shower.
There’s no art or creativity in comfort.
So what’s the take-home message here?
In our modern society, we live like pets in a zoo, all pampered and locked up from the challenging discomforts of our primal nature.
Go and inflict some creative discomfort on yourself (or those around you) and be able to tell some crazy stories 🙂
For all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these “it might have been.”
-John Greenleaf Whittier