Years ago, I happened to be at a Tokyo airport during a super typhoon. I had a one-day layover and no money. My plan was to loiter inside the airport until my flight the next day. I say a Tokyo airport because at the time, there were two. Mine was the one that closed at 8 p.m. I was very excited about experiencing a super typhoon, and, promptly at 8 p.m., airport security obliged me by tossing me into it. The storm proved to be a little too up-close and personal, so I ran for shelter at a nearby airport hotel. My new plan was to loiter there. They could tell, and they tossed me out, too. More running, this time to a sympathetic security guard who let me back into the airport.
The moral of the story? Too much rain and wind, I run for cover.
I’m the same way with super-strong opinions. Too much hot air blowing my way, I run for cover.
To clarify, I’m talking about the super-strong opinions that clash with mine. The ones wearing boxing gloves. That come out of nowhere. I know immediately when I’m hit with one. My chest tightens and my throat constricts.
People who voice their super-strong opinions when I least expect them remind me of the hare in Aesop’s fable. They’re full of assurance and quick with a counter-attack, if you try to argue back. They are the super-typhoons.
I’m more like the tortoise. A bit pensive and definitely plodding. When an incendiary topic comes up, (and mind you, it’s only incendiary if I question or disagree with what’s being said) I need a few days to find out exactly where I stand. I need books. The kind with lots of footnotes. At the very least, I need long magazine articles. And it’s probably best if I write everything down because I have poor retention. Then I’m ready to fight back. That is, if I can find the hare who has undoubtedly moved on to other incendiary topics.
It’s reasonable to believe that Aesop’s fable was entirely about polemics. The hare is so quick to take a side and brutally defend it. The tortoise is so quick to retreat into its shell (where it keeps its library, probably—where there’s tea.) As the tortoise, I prefer a safe place, especially when words are being exchanged. Messing with a super-typhoon? I don’t like it one bit. I’ll hide. I’ll resist. Give me a gentle breeze. Or sprinkles. I’ll come out for those. And with time, I may find that the sprinkles make a good point.
I’ll probably always be the tortoise. Titillated by boring facts. Smug that I’ve read a book or two. I’ve accepted the way I am and can live with myself. The downside? I’ll never be a match for the hare and will get beaten every time. What a relief that hares nap.
Into the Comfort Zone 