most alive

being away from your home country forces you to try to stay connected with the cultural events you are inherently missing. the superbowl was this week, other than having a raving packers fan in the office, and calling my son on the drive to the office on monday, i would never have know; or honestly cared. but other events and ideas happen back in the land of the free and i feel the pull of desire to share them. this is how i get pulled into reading articles on sites like good.is

living in malaysia takes away my ability to think about the best beer in each state, but i can read an article that maps the best beers of my home country. it points out that 78 percent of the beer sold in the US is produced by busch, coors and miller brewing companies, but the fact that we have a map with 49 great breweries, spread evenly across the country, does warm my heart. it also made me happy that smutty nose, harpoon, flying dog are all on the list, but gives me ideas for reasons to try new brews the next time i am back.

while i was reading the site today i saw the community discussion, when you do feel most alive? read the aswers that people left, they were great. those leaving comments were honest and open. talking about moments in life that are personal, but which do make them feel fully alive. this is something i miss about the US, those types of conversations, and here it is in an online forum.

as i read the article, i thought about it for myself. what moments make me feel fully alive?

the first thought was of driving in malaysian thunderstorms. speeding up the roads to KL, with rain sweeping over the road, other drivers making erratic lane changes and entering curves like those on the MEX or Sprint just a bit too fast for the conditions. in those moments, retaining control as the fear of slipping off the edge of the road kicks in. i feel a rush and then the relaxation that comes when the wheels straighten out and the stress passes. it's the moment after the near loss of control that feels the best, that is the moment of success.

this happens in other situations also. work, thankfully, has plenty of chances for almost crashing. last year while we were trying to go mobile, we had black screens of death, fears of apple rejection, risks of selected tools -- i felt alive and well. it reminded me that life is too short not to do the things that you love. the day the app went live, i was swimming in a private pool in thailand and i knew success was worth the effort.

the moments of life which are the best are those where i pushed into a risky situation, took a chance that others would shy away from, felt the pressure rise, felt the rush of excitement and the eventual relaxation when the pressure has passed. the moment some call "la petite mort", a short period of melancholy or transcendence as a result of the expenditure of the life force, is what makes me smile. it gives me joy and is worth the stress that brings it.

does this make me an adrenaline junkie? i don't jump out of airplanes, rob banks or other self destructive acts. but i would love to run with the bulls, want to surf really big waves again and tend to be dumb enough to take on a challenge for the pure enjoyment of doing it. i also have lived a life with enough excitement to know that it's the thrilling moments i must continue to have. those are the events i am craving almost unconsciously as i realize the speed has picked up and the roads are wet.

the slower moments, the comfortable times, enjoying the feeling of safety, softness and warmth are great, but the short, sharp shocks of life are the times i am most alive. can you imagine living life without those? many, many people do, they keep the speed down, the lid on and the doors closed because its safe. safe is what my mother told me i would not be if i kept climbing to the top of the tree so i could get my head above the leaves. i wanted to look around, she told me i was foolish.

she was right, the next day the branch i was standing on broke and i fell towards the ground. i bounced off of limbs as i crashed towards the ground. a larger branch broke my fall before i hit dirt. i was a 8 years old and i felt how close i had come to killing myself. i was scared and realized what i had done. i scared myself enough that i never went that high in that tree again.

i still remember how good it felt to have my head above the top of the tree's leaves, that bright sunny day when i went higher than anyone else, higher than they thought i could. the bruises were worth it, because i had lived. i know i am not going to climb a tree and get my head about the top today, but it feels good to have the memory and know i did it once.

i never told my mother i had reached the top, she would have beaten me for being successful, and how could that be a good idea.