I am the youngest of four. So when I was once and for all old enough to participate, it was like I had finally been allowed to enter into a secret rite of passage. I was given the ever elusive go-ahead. I was now able to roam the neighborhood with my friends late into the night and, well, make a little mischief like my brothers and sister had for so many years before me.
Our mischief? We'd ring peoples' doorbells and run, put shaving cream on peoples' windows, throw eggs and make toilet paper flow down, like billowy white waterfalls, from neighborhood trees. Looking back, it was all pretty innocent. But because we knew we weren't supposed to be doing these kinds of things, there was a certain sexy excitement to it all. I mean, it was dark outside. As in DARK dark. And hey, it was also the night before the supposedly scariest night of the year. We could get caught by parents ( ! ) or, worst thought of all, the cops ( !!! ). And really, who knew exactly who you might run into around the corner at that time on such a spooky night? In a way, the night was electric.
Ironically, I'm the first one to admit I am not made for scary excitement. I've noted this more than once here on this site but to put it simply, scary and I just don't get along. I'd love to say I like scary movies and can hang when it comes to telling ghost stories but I absolutely, positively can't. It's just not me. My imagination always gets the best of me. I freak myself out. (Blame it on my creative mind?)
Just recently I was talking with a friend and through the course of our conversation I admitted how I wished I was a little bit different. Not drastically so, but just a little. I admitted to wanting to be braver and not just in the scary movie / scary story sense. I wished, and still do, that I was a bit more courageous. A bit less anxious. A bit more fearless than I presently am.
Anyway, after we spoke, I tried and have been trying to be more, truly, conscious of when I am afraid. Whether it's about if I will be a good mom...to children I have yet to have...with a man I have yet to meet (WHOA!) or just a strange noise coming from down the hall at 2am. Whatever it is, in the far, far future or in the very close present, I'm trying to be more aware and ask myself, Really, what am I so afraid of?
With that in mind, I saw The Office on NBC this past Thursday night. Did you see it? It was their Halloween episode. As usual, it was very funny. But then in the last minute or so of the episode, James Spader's character says something quite prolific on this very topic:
"Fear plays an interesting role in our lives. How dare we let it motivate us. How dare we let it into our decision making, into our livelihoods, into our relationships. It's funny, isn't it? We take a day a year to dress up in costume and celebrate fear?"
His words struck me because they are so true. In a way, we celebrate fear on Halloween. But if we're not careful we can also unintentionally celebrate it almost every day, and in a lot more ways than we sometimes realize, just by letting it have any kind of power over us.
For me, life can be a lot like mischief night. Sometimes it's dark. Sometimes I'm not sure of where I'm going or what I'm doing. Sometimes it seems like anything can happen. And sometimes it seems like I will get called out.
Whatever it is, whatever my concern, I'm realizing lately that I must still go out into the night and that I can be afraid but still go anyway. In my own small way, I will face the DARK dark, whatever that may represent at the time. And my hope in doing so is that instead of being fueled by fear that I will once again be energized by excitement, the same kind of excitement I felt as a kid. The same kind of excitement that I wish for you as well.
Happy Halloween!
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