Why I'd Rather Be Crazy Than Boring

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This is the Music Makers podcast where I read things out loud to you and then offer my unqualified opinions on them. Why I would rather be crazy than boring by Alison Vesterfelt. Recently, I was on a plane reading a book, and I started crying. I'm not much of a crier most of the time. I have my moments, of course, like anyone, usually in private.

But I'm typically not the girl who cries in movie theaters or over Hallmark commercials or even in public over well written books. So, of course, it came as a huge surprise on the plane when the tears began to come and I realized, no matter how hard I tried, I wasn't going to be able to will them away. Oh, no. Not this now, I thought to myself. But even as the thought entered my brain, I felt the first hot drop of salty water make a break for it and come streaming down my face.

I put my head down, blinked a few times, hoping that would be it and I could move on, but no such luck. In fact, the harder I tried to blink them back, the more persistently they pushed their way out of my eyelids and spilled down my cheeks. You can imagine the awkward throat clearing that followed from the man to my right in 38 c. I hung my head in shame. He must think I'm crazy, I thought to myself.

I pictured myself turning toward him, holding up the cover of my book and saying, between stilted breaths and with my squeaky, crying voice, I'm sorry, sir. It's just a really good book. But I didn't say anything. Instead, I just leaned my head back against the seat and let the tears flow. And you know what I decided while I was crying?

I decided it's okay. It's okay if he thinks I'm crazy, and it's okay if you think I'm crazy. I'd rather be crazy. I'd rather be crazy and vulnerable than to be the kind of person who can't cry when the situation calls for it or who won't let herself feel anything at all. I've been that girl, and I don't miss her.

I'd rather be crazy enough to quit my job and go on a 50 state road trip than to spend years of my life doing work that is less than satisfying than to grow up wondering what if, I would have taken the leap. I was that girl for many years, the obedient girl, the rebellious girl, the angry girl. They were all the same girl in different ways, and to that girl I say, good riddance. I'd rather be crazy enough to move twice in 1 year, first from Florida to Minneapolis, then from Minneapolis to Nashville, when the pull is so strong in a certain direction and when I'm sure it's right, than to be the girl who sits on our hands waiting for the, quote, perfect timing that never seems to come? I've spent so much time waiting, wasting so many years wishing for life to happen to me instead of taking responsibility to make it happen myself.

I don't want to be that girl anymore, that bored girl, that sad girl. I'd rather be this girl, the girl who is committed to forgive and love and move and act and let go, push forward, and believe even when it doesn't make sense to believe. Even if it means being disappointed, even if it means being hurt again and again. I'd rather set audacious goals than to set mediocre ones I know I can meet or not set goals at all to maintain my fragile ego. I know that girl too well, and I don't want to be her anymore.

I'd rather swing for the fences. I'd rather be crazy. I'd rather risk my whole life for something that matters than to get to the end and realize I'd played it safe so I could drive a nice car and own a leather couch. I'd rather hold to things loosely, feeling grateful for gifts as they come and giving them away as they are needed by others. I'd rather give too much than too little, too much love, too much money, too much of my time.

I'd rather be crazy. I've spent most of my life trying to make sure people didn't think I was crazy, but recently, everything is changing. Recently, I think to myself, while crying over a book on an airplane, who cares what the guy in 38 c thinks anyway? After all, crazy might not be so bad. Man, this is a good one.

I love this article. I like that she sets it up as a dichotomy between crazy and boring, not interesting and boring or cool and boring, but crazy and boring. And I love the examples she gives, about reading the book on the plane and starting to cry. I've definitely cried reading books. One I remember in particular was a biography of Einstein, And I was sitting on the patio at a restaurant in College Station, Texas reading a biography of Einstein, and I remember just starting to cry because it was so good.

That's insane. The other example she gives is, I'd rather be crazy enough to quit my job and go on a 50 state road trip than to spend years of my life doing work that is less than satisfying than to grow up wondering what if I would have taken the leap. I wonder how many people stay in jobs they don't like and cities they don't wanna be in because they're afraid people might think they're crazy. Who are who are these people that that are gonna think we're crazy, and why does it matter? I wonder if we're all just staying in places, doing things we don't like so that we all don't think each other is crazy.

It's kinda it's kinda ridiculous. Right? You're staying at your job, so your coworker doesn't think you're crazy for quitting without a plan. And your coworker is staying at their job, so you don't think they're crazy for quitting without a plan. Who cares?

Who cares? At some point, you have to decide, I don't care if other people think I'm crazy. I'd rather risk and lose than be safe. Because a lot of the time, being safe, you end up losing anyway. At least if you risk, you tried.

Right? If you just sit around being safe the whole time, you're losing, but it's much slower and it's much, much more painful. You're withering away rather than going out in a blaze of glory. I got my undergrad in accounting, then went on and got my master's in accounting, and then got my CPA, and then went to work for a big accounting firm. And it was super safe.

I could've stayed there for 40 years, but, man, I hated it. It was terrible. The people were awesome, but the actual work the actual work in the corporate environment of public accounting was just not for me. A lot of people liked it. I did not.

But it was such a safe job that I had to consider staying, but I didn't consider it for very long because I looked down the road and thought, I cannot do this for 40 years. So I quit my job at a big four accounting firm where I was doing tax all day long and started building iPhone apps. And I was a freelance software developer for 2 or two and a half years, and now I work at a start up in Dallas as a software developer. And, yeah, it was kinda risky to leave. And, yes, it did work out, and it doesn't always work out.

But I figured worst case scenario, absolute worst case scenario, I go to a smaller accounting firm and try to figure out how to leave that one. And in my farewell email to all my friends at the firm, I said something like, I may fail spectacularly, but at least I will have tried. And I'm sure those partners thought I was crazy, but I'd rather be crazy. I'd rather be the friend that's too loyal and too committed. I'd rather be the person that feels too much, like crying when you read a biography of Einstein, which is very good, by the way.

I'd rather be the guy that people think is a little little bit crazy than the one that they think is super safe and super conservative. So like Allison said, swing for the fences. Give too much rather than too little. Too much love, too much money, too much time. After all, crazy might not be so bad.

You can see the show notes for this episode or leave a comment by going to musicmakers.fm/5. If you want, you can send me an email at aaron@musicmakers.f m or find me on Twitter at musicmakersfm. And if you like this show, please subscribe on iTunes and leave a review by going to musicmakers.fm/review.