“Run from what’s comfortable.
Forget safety. Live where you fear to live.
Destroy your reputation. Be notorious.
I have tried prudent planning long enough. From now on I’ll be mad.”
Someone recently shared this Rumi quote, and I decided to jot down a few thoughts about what each line means to me.
Run from what’s comfortable.
Comfort is inactivity. Routine. Sluggishness. This all leads to decay. When we sit for too long, our body aches, telling us it’s time to get up and stretch, to get the blood pumping. As I sit at my familiar writing desk, a dull throbbing in my left knee reminds me to uncross my legs, to walk into the kitchen for a glass of water.
Discomfort causes movement. It inspires us to seek something else, something different, even if we don’t know what will satisfy our thirst. Discomfort is our ally, not an enemy. It’s the friend who says, “Buy the airfare and come stay with me” when my practical brain argues that it costs too much money, and I should stay home. The real cost is in the not going, the not breaking away from the cycle of decay.
Forget safety.
Safety is an illusion. Three years ago, I bought my fixer-upper cabin. I paid for an inspection, made necessary repairs, pumped the septic and swept the chimney, and purchased home, fire and flood insurance. I got to work clearing the deadwood, raking pine needles, trimming ladder fuel from trees. I felt safe, like I had done all the things I was supposed to do to keep danger at bay. Six months later, COVID struck. And six months after that, I was evacuated for ten weeks when the largest wildfire in Colorado history tore past my neighborhood – not once, but twice. My home survived the wildfire, but it was pure luck.
People ask if I’m going to move because of the added risk of flash flooding, and I tell them no. There is risk in the economy, in a hand shake, in walking down the sidewalk, or even living in the suburbs. What my wildfire experience taught me is that life will always be full of surprises. Safety and control are false constructs in our minds, so why not try something new? Travel when we get the itch? Write about something super vulnerable? There’s no guarantee that I’ll be safe hiding at home, so why not put myself out into the world?
Live where you fear to live.
Rumi likely meant this as a metaphor to face our fears, to dig deep, but I’ve also taken this line quite literally over the years. In 2016, I left home and lived in the Colorado backcountry for five weeks to figure out next steps in my life. In 2019, I left my familiar hometown to go live in a cabin by a river. In both cases, I wasn’t just facing my fear of the wild unknown, I was facing my fear of being alone, and having loads of quiet time for deep introspection – the hard work I had been avoiding the first half of my life.
You need to walk deep into that dark cave, Luke Skywalker, and face your fears! But instead of waging a light saber battle against myself, I’m choosing to have a conversation with my fears, thank them for trying to protect me, and then show them the exit. Facing our fears is uncomfortable. But, once again, it’s the discomfort that inspires movement, which leads to healthy growth.
Destroy your reputation.
I love this line. To me, this is about giving ourselves permission to destroy fixed labels, whether they are self-imposed or given to us by others. This is about being willing to re-invent ourselves. It’s about breaking free from expectations. For years, I struggled with caring too much about what others thought of me, how they saw me. Living to please others was an exhausting full-time job that nearly killed me. Fuck that.
We are fluid beings, constantly re-inventing ourselves over and over again throughout our lives. We must be willing to destroy the old versions of ourselves in order to evolve.
Be notorious.
The word “notorious” gets a bad rap. It often carries a negative connotation, like “I-70 is notorious for weekend traffic.” I think Rumi is encouraging us to dive into something we care about, and then share our enthusiasm with the world. Become well-known for the things we love.
I have tried prudent planning long enough.
I’m such a diehard planner. I love my sticky notes, the paper daytimer I’ve had since college, a detailed road trip itinerary. I will always be a planner, but I’ve found that some of the coolest moments on a road trip are the unplanned stops to check out a weird roadside attraction, or when I followed my gut and took a side road. Over-planning, being too rigid, can make us miss out on the cool stuff in life.
From now on I’ll be mad.
Who cares what other people think? Be true to you. Break free of societal norms and expectations and do what brings you joy.
I’ve been sitting stagnant in my career, playing it too small for too long, and my heart and mind are aching for something bigger. I will listen to my good friend, Discomfort, and buy that airline ticket. But first, I will finish my book and hand it over to my editor in October.
It’s time to stretch and expand my writing muscles, explode out of that runner’s block, and leave a trail of flaming footprints as I make laps around the world.