Trapeze Burning?
I was hit by a metaphor once and have yet to recover. (Talk about mixing your metaphors…)
I have been burning all kinds of bridges lately. And oddly, I don't seem to care much.
Typically, I'm not a bridge burning kind of gal. Burning a bridge is, after all, not a smart thing to do (generally speaking). You never know when you'll need to re-cross that river. And having a bridge you've already crossed in place is a pretty convenient way to get to the previously visited other side. You've already crossed the bridge, so you know what to expect. And backtracking can be a painful enough process without having to explore a new bridge during the backing up process.
But regardless of all that, I've been burning bridges away hither and yon. It's a bit like removing a safety net from beneath the one-armed trapeze artist at the circus. I'm one sweaty palm minus a swinging bar away from hitting the elephant manure and sawdust studded concrete. And I don't seem to have much of a problem with the high probability that elephant manure and sawdust will break my 100 feet fall onto the concrete below.
No, a possible fall doesn't worry me. The lack of worry about a possible fall worries me. Where is caution without worry? Seems to me like a one-armed trapeze artist should exercise some caution, the presence of a net being the least of the precautions taken. But no, here I am swinging away madly above the sawdust and elephant manure. This is not like me at all. Could this be yet another manifestation of my changing self definition?
Trading in my good girl shoes are one thing, behaving irresponsibly is another altogether.
I have been burning all kinds of bridges lately. And oddly, I don't seem to care much.
Typically, I'm not a bridge burning kind of gal. Burning a bridge is, after all, not a smart thing to do (generally speaking). You never know when you'll need to re-cross that river. And having a bridge you've already crossed in place is a pretty convenient way to get to the previously visited other side. You've already crossed the bridge, so you know what to expect. And backtracking can be a painful enough process without having to explore a new bridge during the backing up process.
But regardless of all that, I've been burning bridges away hither and yon. It's a bit like removing a safety net from beneath the one-armed trapeze artist at the circus. I'm one sweaty palm minus a swinging bar away from hitting the elephant manure and sawdust studded concrete. And I don't seem to have much of a problem with the high probability that elephant manure and sawdust will break my 100 feet fall onto the concrete below.
No, a possible fall doesn't worry me. The lack of worry about a possible fall worries me. Where is caution without worry? Seems to me like a one-armed trapeze artist should exercise some caution, the presence of a net being the least of the precautions taken. But no, here I am swinging away madly above the sawdust and elephant manure. This is not like me at all. Could this be yet another manifestation of my changing self definition?
Trading in my good girl shoes are one thing, behaving irresponsibly is another altogether.
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