How would your life be different if you were incapable of feeling fear? Would your life be better or worse than it is now?
“And what is it that you need again?” I asked my sister to confirm what I just heard.
“You’re hopeless, aren’t you brother dear,” Maddie said with a sigh. “How would your life be different if you were incapable of feeling fear? Would your life be better or worse than it is now?”
“And why would you ask me such a question?”
Maddie was my 13 year-old sister who usually bugs me at every opportunity she has. She probably had that usual philosophy epiphany and went on her way to ask her brother dear about it who minutes ago was enjoying the internet and a fine cup of tea.
After thinking for an appropriate response, she gave her statement. “You see, you’re supposedly the only one in the family who lazes all day staring at the computer. And then I though, ‘a guy like that surely has something to fear about the great outdoors!’ which means your the best person to ask of this.”
What a weird though process.
“What would life be without fear? I guess the response you’ll usually get is that it would be great, considering that fear always holds you back.”
She nodded in agreement. “Yep, that’s what you’ll usually get with this questions. But no, I am asking YOU, brother, not some random person on the street.”
And I thought I could get away with it.
“I’d probably become very successful, now that I wont be scared at talking to people and become assertive?”
“And I thought I could get a decent answer from you,” she replied with regret in her eyes. “You could’ve given me something more provocative, you know?”
I scratched my head in confusion. Maddie’s thinking was always levels deep, but the way she presents it to normal people was her weakness.
She took her time by writing my previous response on a piece of paper. “But brother,” she prompted while writing. “Wouldn’t the incapability of feeling fear result in rash and mindless decisions?”
“Yeah, well there’s that. But hey, it’s a give or take relationship.”
Maddie widened her eyes in enlightenment. “Oh, I get it, brother dear!”
She rushed outside the room, her footsteps loud enough to be heard by everyone in the house. As soon as she returned, she carried a half-empty glass with her.
“The question is technically the same as the half-full-half-empty glass question!”
“And your point being?” And wait, why did she even have to bring a glass instead of just saying it directly?
“Oh come on, you have to know what the question is all about. Is the glass half-empty, or half-full? Is living without fear better, or worse?”
“You do realize that they’re both differ–”
“Hep! That’s where you’re wrong! They’re similar in the fact that they both have the same answer: it’s both! It’s half-empty and half-full at the same time, AND it’s better and worse at the same time too! Of course at a first glance that doesn’t sound right, but need I remind you that we’re dealing with multiple factors here. Life has many different components, and fear could either improve or worsen it’s state. With this facts at hand, we can now safely give an answer that would satisfy everyone, and that is life would probably be better than it is now! Why? Because if I weight them both in my scale, the gains are much more satisfactory than the loss. Well, that’s from an optimistic young lady. Sheesh, I wish they’d give me a harder question.”
I blinked my eyes to wake myself from being dazed. I then proceeded to ask the important question. “So, for what purpose did you get that glass of water?”
“Because I got thirsty, of course,” she answered nonchalantly without a care in this world.
“Are we finished here? I really need to get back on the computer.”
“Okay okay, thanks for all the help today, brother!” She left my room with her signature door slam. I really wish she’d stop doing that.
Was our talk eventful and worthwhile? For her, maybe, but for me, it was nothing but just another quirk at this household of mine.
“Well then, what could be today’s prompt I wonder…”
I really have too much free time to be writing this stuff.