Once, a long time ago, I bought a bath bomb that was called "Waving Not Drowning." I tucked the light blue sphere into my backpack and pedaled towards home in the rain. Happy notions of sinking into a steamy hot bath full of bubbles kept me from feeling grumpy about the rain and the cars splashing past covering me with road grit. The bath bomb promised relaxation and a good night's sleep, those cars could honk at me all the way home so long as I could get into the tub once I got there. And I did. It was exactly what I had hoped it would be. I wafted off to bed on a heavenly scent cloud thanks to that little fizzy ball.
At the time I did not know that the little bomb of happiness took its name from a poem entitled Not Waving But Drowning by Stevie Smith. When I stumbled upon the poem I remember thinking, how odd to have turned the meaning around and yet kept it in tact at the same time. In both cases one sinks into the watery depths, one waves, and at some point, in both cases there is a peaceful letting go. But the sleep of the bath bomb was not eternal. I wonder what Ms. Smith would think of this transposition of words changing so fundamentally the meaning of her work? Would she mind? Did it matter?
In naming this blog I am making a similar attempt to re-signify an old phrase by reordering the words, but staying close to the essential meaning. As we move through life we are forever being told to watch where we are going, mind our step, and look before leaping. The implication seems to be that by using caution and seeing what's ahead, we will somehow be better off. It plays right into the idea that we are, somehow, in control and able to stay out of trouble in one way or another if only we mind what we are doing. Yet for all that precarious looking about we still fall into predicaments, mental traps, or worse.
Lately, I've been wondering if all that looking and seeing are so helpful. In fact, sometimes I think it prevents possibilities, short circuits spontaneity, deepens the groove of the rut we are already in.
Could it be that the leap without looking first might be ok? Or better yet, that leaping into the unknown will lead to something unexpected and challenging? What if not knowing what's there turns out to be the only way to get to somewhere new and unexpected? I've had a few experiences with the blind leap over time - some with happy endings, others more akin to the muddy ride home mentioned above. But none have been the kind of experience that leads me to say "I'll never make that mistake again, from now on it's eyes ahead, no move made before we know what's out there!" I suspect that reaching that conclusion would only lead to boredom (what could be worse than boredom?).
So, after a few years of making small leaps into the unknown with experiences such as KitchenParty, road trips with no maps, and following my intuition rather than force of habit, it seems time to consider larger leaps with bigger unknowns. This blog will be the place where I record the experience of leaping before looking. Simply sharing the experience in this way is a version of putting myself out there in the realm of the unknown and uncontrolled.
Welcome to Leap Before Looking. The first hop is to push the "publish" button. Doesn't sound all that complicated, does it? Only for those already comfortable with the leap.
