It is true that the bold have more adventures. But boldness should not be confused with pride. Often the door to adventures is a low one: humility. Regrettably, I know this because I know myself. When I examine why I don’t attempt new things, I must admit I am not held back by a modest assessment of my limitations. I hesitate because I fear doing things badly—and looking ridiculous. I would like to mask this habit as a passion for excellence, but it is more a loathing of embarrassment. I do not want to be the newbie—the greenhorn.
Chesterton’s wit regarding this cut me to the quick. In describing one of Dickens’ characters, he says, “Pickwick goes through life with that godlike gullibility which is the key to all adventures. The greenhorn is the ultimate victor in everything; it is he that gets the most out of life.” Chesterton asserts it is often the old or middle-aged that have adventures, for they have lost the fear of looking ridiculous. I get this. Today I have little fear of being ridiculous because . . . well, I am ridiculous.
Perhaps when I was young and cut a more dashing figure, I could avoid admitting that to be human was to be ridiculous. Not now. As one grows old, the hair thins, body plumps, joints ache, and face droops. Time has humbled me, but humility frees me to have adventures.
I once feared looking like a tourist when I traveled—even though I was a tourist. I would avoid seeing interesting things simply because they were the places the tourists go. I now see this is a kind of pride. I have also figured out that often tourists go to see certain places because they are truly worth seeing. Pride can certainly cause us to follow the herd, but standing aloof from the herd headed for water is both arrogant and stupid. Mindless non-conformity is not much better than mindless conformity. Pride can motivate both.
Unlike Pickwick, I have a dyspeptic fear of being “taken-in” or duped. I fear being the butt of someone’s joke or the hapless victim of someone’s con. Here again Chesterton attacks me: “His soul will never starve for exploits or excitements who is wise enough to be made a fool of.” I need more of this kind of wisdom. The fear of being taken-in by others can leave us sullen and alone on the outside of life. But as Chesterton promises, “With torches and trumpets, like a guest, the greenhorn is taken in by Life. And the sceptic is cast out.”
But I have repented, and gone even further: I have decided to enjoy the joke that is Mark Wilson. I shall wear pink and orange plaid shorts and hang a camera around my neck as I bound into tourist traps. I shall do all the motions to Vacation Bible School songs. I shall try new things and do them badly until I achieve mediocrity. I shall have adventures.
