What if someone told you that you have three weeks to live; how would your life change? What would you do first? Who would you tell first, or would you keep it to yourself? What would those final three weeks look like moving forward?
From childhood to adolescence, I always heard the term, Better Safe Than Sorry. I was never sure what it meant at the time and learned to ignore it most of my life. As a boy, I was always a bit of a risk-taker, very curious about the unknown, always asking one question after another until told to stop talking. Then I would write all the other questions down in my little detective notepad so I could ask them if I ever got the chance again. What an annoying little boy, yep, that was me. Many will say that's still me today with all the questions, curious mind, and looking at people the way a magpie or black crow look at people sitting on a bench in the park.
I later learned that the proverb, Better Safe Than Sorry means, it's wiser to be cautious and careful than to be hasty or rash and so do something you may later regret. Like riding your bike without a helmet could be dangerous so get protection or never ride your bike was what it meant to me. Or, shying away from eating salmon because it could cause a nasty reaction, but it also may not do anything except be a delicious meal. The biggest one today is choosing not to wear a mark in the era of COVID-19. Would you consider that better safe than sorry? Or already deciding not to get a vaccine for the coronavirus because it may kill you. Ah, if you don't would you consider yourself safe or sorry if you don't survive? I find that life is too short to sit in a dark room calculating what if.
As a child growing up, people considered me a risk-taker, although I just thought I was doing what I wanted to do, dealing with the consequences later if it didn't work out. I learned to try new things and investigate if I liked it or not. I learned early enough that being safe wasn't the path for me. I would always weigh the pros and cons of all of my decisions. Being safe kept me from trying many new things, sitting on the sidelines watching other enjoy life. So I decided to try a bit more to have fun. For example, when asked by friends to join them for a skiing trip, I said yes I want to go, then ran home to look it up in a dictionary. I freaked out and thought only crazy people would go somewhere cold with lots of snow, stand on two boards and go up and down a mountain. Ugh! was my initial thought. I studied the good and the bad of what could happen -- a broken leg, stay home and read a book, or come out as a great skier. The leg would heal eventually. Off I went on my adventure to the snow. My favorite part was sitting next to the beautiful fireplace drinking hot chocolate with friends.
Do you regret not doing something that you wanted to achieve in your life? To this day, I often think about my one regret of choosing better safe than sorry. My life regret taught me a valuable lesson that has shaped who I am today. As a high school student, there were two things that I wanted out of life. One was to become a doctor, a pediatrician working with children. The other was to become a criminal lawyer so I could help people who looked like me defend themselves from racial profiling. Like all high school students preparing for the next step, I met with my guidance counselor, sharing my thoughts, ideas, and goals for my future. Some things never leave your memory bank, although locating my keys slip my memory. My guidance counselor listened to me and smiled. She then said, "Young man, although your grades are excellent, your goals are too big." She continued by explaining, "No one will admit you into medical school, and if they did, there would be no internship or a job as a doctor because you are black." I was stunned when she reminded me that it would be better to be safe than sorry, and go to a vocation school to learn to become a plumber, a carpenter, or an auto mechanic. I left her with tears in my eyes. Upon arriving home, I requested a meeting with my mother to discuss my school meeting. To my surprise, she agreed with the school counselor and encouraged me to keep my part-time job as a bank messenger and move into the role of a bank teller. I became confused that my mom agreed with a white woman telling me what I couldn't accomplish with my life. Within my family, it was a bit of a joke that this little black boy wanted to become a doctor. Although this was my biggest regret, it inspired me to pursue so many other things in my life, never giving up. Today I understand having the resilience to keep rising no matter what the challenge may be.
To the disappointment of my mother, I quit my bank messenger job and started applying to colleges. My mother worked as a maid for two of the wealthiest families in Houston. One of the families was extremely racist and only liked my mother. They disliked my brother and sister because they were the color of coffee like my dad. Like my mother, I was a preferred color, so they were polite to me. On school holidays, my mother would take us with her to work so that we could help her complete her tasks faster. My sister, the darkest of all of us, was not allowed in the house because it allegedly her skin color would rub off on things. She could only use the toilet in the garage for help. I hated this family with a passion and would sit on a stool and watch them with slanted eyes. The second family was just as wealthy, but I liked them because of their kindness and support. I remember them the most because they made it possible for me to obtain a scholarship for college and gave me my first Olivetti Underwood typewriter they were going to throw out. My face was in pain for weeks from smiling. I cherished the gift. Although my mother wasn't pleased, I knew this would be my passport to learning new things.
As I prepared to go off to college, I can remember the horrible rumors about me. Many people in our neighborhood shared that I was too arrogant for my good, thinking that I was better than everyone else. And who did I think I was trying to leave the poor community to try to be white. Interestingly enough, none of their criticism had much effect on me. I had previously watched my siblings stage their getaway, although a bit more accepted by community members. My sister joined the army because she wanted to become a nurse. My family believed that women should only be allowed to attend college to find a husband that could take care of them financially. My brother joined the air force to escape. Considered the obnoxious risk-taker, everyone believed I would return with my tail between my legs begging forgiveness. It didn't happen. Being away, I decided to take more risks. It felt like I had received a year to live, and I lived life to the max. Once in college, I became an exchange student and spent a year in Rome, Italy. Even though I didn't know where Italy was, I embraced every moment of it and lived life to the max without fear. My goal was to learn as much and as fast as I could while having the maximum amount of fun. After my sophomore year of college, I decided to drop out and stay in Europe. Being threatened to return home by my mother only inspired me that I was doing the right thing, so I traveled all over Europe and landed in Paris, where I stayed another year, going back and forth to Rome and Florence to stay with friends. I evicted the better safe than sorry voices out of my head and tried everything at least twice.
Upon returning home to finish college, my mother made me promise to choose one of two careers that would make her proud of me. Her choices were not my favorites, but making her happy was a priority. The decision was to become a teacher or a preacher. When she said a preacher, I had to struggle to keep my lunch from spraying all over her face. Without hesitation, I said no, that's not for me. So I became a teacher, well it rhymes with preacher. It wasn't my first choice, but I got to work with children and great scholars in the field. I can still remember the smile on my mother's face with her cute little dimples. So I gave her a fake smile too. I thought all night of ways to get out of it, but I finally gave in to her wishes so she could be proud of her son, the teacher. Believe it or not, I loved teaching.
Teaching propelled me into many other careers. Moving away to California was like a new world. Driving across the country with my cousin, listening to California Dreamin' by Mama Cass was the highlight of my trip. California was the place for new beginnings and experiences. So I did it all. I tried any & everything offered whether I knew what it was or not. Teaching was the best, then I moved into broadcasting and returned to college at Hastings School of Law. Hated law school and marked it off my list. I decided to return to college to get a Master's degree in Education, loved it. I even pretended to be a professor teaching marketing and public relations at San Francisco State University and San Francisco City College for a few years. Loved it! Another item off the list. Next.
Changing lifestyles and locations was on my list too. I met someone and decided to move to Paris to be with them. Once again, that voice said, don't do it, better to be safe than sorry later. That's all I needed to hear, purchased my airline ticket, sold everything, packed my bag, laptop, and massage table, and headed to France for a great experience of my life. No regrets, at all. Once I returned, I had a new attitude about life and how to be grateful for things in my life. After settling for many years back in San Francisco, something new got added to my list. It may have been added in my sleep or at a wild party, but it was there. So guess what, everything was sold again, shipped everything including my partner and tied loose ends in San Francisco and headed to Australia. Now that's a huge move, but once again, no regrets. As long as I am exploring and learning new things, it's a worthwhile experience for me. The hardest part this time around was leaving friends that I love.
The main message of all of this is to share there is no expiration date on fulfilling your dreams. Being able to dream is an integral part of being happy. I have learned over the years from wise and older friends that visualizing dreams may bring you some pleasure, but trying without being too afraid to do so means a lot. Often we may achieve what we want and realize we don't want it at all. That's fulfillment enough for me. There is no room in my life for being better safe than sorry.
So, what will you do differently in your life to explore your dreams? Finally, I understand the use of having a bucket list of things you would like to experience or try that may help you to grow. What happens when the bucket list is empty? You keep adding new things to the list. The bucket can hold small or large items. Create it to be a fun exploration of life. Remember, No Regrets!
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