Catching proverbial Falling knives
On Tuesday evening, I was watching the presidential debate while texting my friend Matthew. He summed up the chaos perfectly, calling it "like falling knives." I loved that analogy—it captured not only the debate but the state of the world we're living in. As an optimist, I feel compelled to try and catch those falling knives, even if I get burned. And, trust me, I’ve been burned plenty. Now, I’m just trying to figure out how to avoid getting cut so deeply.
As I reflect today, the day after the debate, I can’t help but wonder: how often do I try to catch those knives in my own life, only to end up getting hurt? What happens when you try to catch one of these proverbial knives and lose something more—like a foot, or some other part of yourself?
It leads me to this thought: isn’t the best way to help others by first helping yourself? How can I possibly help those around me when I’m not sure I can even help myself? It’s a tricky situation. I care deeply about the people in my life and want to see them win. But I’m realizing more and more that I can’t save everyone. They have to be willing to help themselves.
Lately, I’ve felt out of place with some of the friends I’ve made. Some are heavily into the rave scene. I tried it out and found I enjoyed parts of it, but soon realized it was distracting me from my longer-term goals. The rave scene, for me, became about chasing short-term thrills, living in three-month increments. But the things I want to achieve aren't measured in months—they’re measured in years. If I get caught up in that mindset, I’ll lose sight of the bigger picture, the grander ambitions I have for my future.
One of those ambitions is this writing, this blog. Yet, I keep letting myself down by not putting in the full effort it deserves. I try to balance having a social life while perfecting my craft, but sometimes, the social life has to take a backseat. It’s naive to think I can dive into every new life experience while still staying focused on my goals.
Then there’s this dilemma: what happens when you speak your truth, but it offends people? I’m still trying to figure out when my words truly hurt others, and when they’re just reacting out of their own unresolved pain. This has come up a lot as I make new friends, and I’m working hard to distinguish between genuine connections and superficial ones.
If someone has a problem with me, I want them to talk to me about it. I’m tired of people blaming me for their own stresses. In the end, we control our emotions. We decide what to get mad at. Don’t let someone else make that choice for you.
As I sit here on vacation, watching the ocean, I’m thinking about how I can bend the world to my will. Not in a controlling way, but in a way that pushes me to become the person I know deep down I’m capable of being. I want to pursue this web design business, give it everything I have, and still be able to take extended vacations to see my family.
In many ways, I admire my uncle, who’s sitting beside me now, staring out at the same ocean. He’s someone who pushed beyond his limits—once a man who went down the wrong path, now a man with an amazing family. He works hard to provide for them and has rebuilt his life in ways that inspire me.
Sometimes, I see myself in him—a kid who got knocked off track but came out stronger. Today, he’s responsible enough to advise banks on all sorts of financial related tasks. Although, I was not alive to see him at his low. It is a cool dichotomy for life. It can chew you up, only to spit you out in a way you never expected—better, wiser, and somehow more whole.