Catching Idle Butterflies

Gutless Wonder

I have a special nickname for myself: Gutless Wonder.

I’m a chicken when it comes to many things. For instance you’ll never get me to eat Rocky Mountain Oysters or Balut (more for you pencilsoverpens !). I will also never drive in a demolition derby, jump out of an airplane – with a parachute or without, bungy jump, scuba dive; I’m sure there are others, but I can’t think of them at this time.

There’s one more on my list, however, and it’s beginning to bug me.

I don’t like to window shop (and no that’s not what scares me. Read on.) When I go to any store, I have a specific item or items in mind. I go in, grab my items and high-tail my buns out of there. I’m the same way on the phone. I’m not a chatter; I don’t call people simply to talk. I need a particular agenda before I’ll call. My entire family is the same way.

There’s another dimension to this, and where my current fear stems from. I have the phone numbers of some of you, but I have yet to call. Instead I’ve been gutless wondering (or is it wandering?) and sending either text or picture messages instead. Why, you ask? After all, calls are free, text and picture messages cost me and you 10 cents apiece.

Several reasons. One, I don’t want to call at a bad time, or otherwise interfere in what is likely a busy time for you. Also, there’s an added dimension to hearing each other’s voice. Part of me likes to remain anonymous. By talking on the phone, you’ll see another side of me, and me of you. I don’t talk well – never have – especially on the phone. You should hear some of the phone messages I’ve left people. I sound like I have some kind of speech or mental impediment! Add to that the nervousness of talking to you for the first time. I know I’ll sound like a bumbling buffoon, and that scares me some. I don’t want to disappoint.

Silly, I know, but some fears are. The only way to get past this one is to simply dial your number and whatever happens, happens. I have to remember to see from your point of view. I won’t think less of you if you’re nervous and stumble over your words, why should I expect you to think less of me when I do? And, like you, if I can’t or don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t have to answer the phone!

Someday I’ll get past this silliness. After all, courage is not the absence of fear, but moving on in spite of it. As far as fears go, I could have worse ones than this.