My jaws clamp down, insuring I won’t let go what I just uncovered. It’s taken me for what seems forever to get my teeth around it, and I won’t give up without a fight. Even if I get kicked. Again. Square in the face where it hurts, but I’ll get over it.
And so will you. It’ll be worth it to me, no matter what you do.
You know who I mean. You, the nay-sayer, the one that tells me to let it go, that it’s no good for me, that history says it will do more harm than good.
But, that’s their history. Written by someone else. I got to find out why I should give up something I’ve hunted and finally found. Can’t follow someone else’s advice, even if they’ve taken a bite only to cough it up. My bite might be different. Only way to find out is through trial and error.
Isn’t that what our ancestors did? Learn the so-called “hard” way?” It may have been hard, but it was their way, and they became so convinced of their Truth, they wrote it in books. I can follow your advice, listen to all the reasons I shouldn’t follow this trail; that I’d find confusion at the end. And not know where any may lead me.
Worse yet. I’m not sure if I should be led like a dog on a leash hoping his master knows where we’ll end up. I want to go it my own way.
What did my dog Sadie do when I tried to take something from her Beagle jaws? Growl. Give a warning from deep inside. One from the throat and chest. Scared the hell out of me first time I heard it. She bit into an old root of sorts in our back yard garden. Tried to take it away, and it felt like the marines had landed near the hand I foolishly put out to take away her reason for gnawing. Got bit a few times over the years our “relationship” flourished, with blackened thumbnails, not to mention deep cuts to some fingers. Finally called a truce. Let her keep what had come into her canine life. She’d get tired of it. Could take it away then.
Once or twice, however, she’d hide or bury an object, but not until she got a good “feel” for it and satisfied instincts that told her it was the right thing to do. Never saw what she hid.
And, I’m not going to let go what has just come into my life. Not until my instincts are satisfied. Maybe it’s wrong to pursue something others are against. But I won’t know that until, and unless, I put my all into it as savagely as a junk yard dog chasing a mailman’s dream.
So back off. This is the last you’ll see or hear me . . .
. . .Beg . . . You . . . To . . . Stop.