Fear.
Whether we like it or not, fear is an emotion that seeps into and shapes our lives more often than most of us would like to admit. We avoid situations, people, places. We walk quickly, eyes downcast and shameful from things that make us… uncomfortable. Sometimes we do not take the chances we would like to. Sometimes we do not say what is on our mind, speak out against wrongs, or express our feelings. We walk the path of least resistance, going with the flow and claiming to be “laid back”.
But really, inside, we know we are just scared to do it… to say it… to feel it.
The other night, I left yoga at 7 and it was dark. It was also snowing; blustery, with wet, razor-like flakes that melted before they hit the ground. I contemplated catching a cab, then thought better of it and started walking the few blocks to North Avenue and the bus. When I reached the stop, I paused for a moment, looking to my left for the yellow lights that even from a distance signify the bus’ imminent arrival.
Nothing.
So I said fuck it and started to walk. Patience, unfortunately, is not one of my virtues and waiting for the bus is worse than waiting for almost anything else. Luckily, I love walking.
I also love bad weather. Storms make me feel introspective and philosophical and full of wonder and cozy and alive all at the same time. The rush of wind and the rumble of thunder stirs something primal in humans I think; distant soul-memories of lives spent huddled in caves, curled up around a smokey fire. I love the raw energy of a storm, the way the hair on your arms stands up and you just feel… awake.
So I started walking.
Initially, I was just going to walk a few blocks until the bus caught me and then hop on. Humboldt Park is not a neighborhood you should walk around in after dark. I know that…. really, I do. But the farther I walked the more my resolve slipped. And the more I thought — why?
Humboldt is dangerous because of gang violence. But, it is also dangerous because we allow it to be. Group-think and fear make people avoid the park and the surrounding neighborhood. And in that avoidance we allow the danger to linger, just out of sight while you fumble for your keys at night or just down the alley when you are throwing out the trash. If tomorrow everyone just said fuck it and started treating the streets here like they treat the ones in Lincoln Park or Wicker, things would be forced to change. Maybe not right away, but eventually.
So that’s what I did. I said fuck it and I walked all the way home. It was probably stupid and I know that. But if I have to choose between living in fear or experiencing the world as it is and the people around me I choose the world. Every. Damn. Time.
And like I said, it was a beautiful night.