Punching sharks

Somewhere in the distance that is my mind, there is some arb information on punching a shark if you are ever under threat of being attacked. Punch it right on the nose and they should go away. I can’t give you references. But whoever came up with such a ridiculous piece of advice must have been analyzing my life. I’m having one of those days when you wake up to chase a neighbour’s dog from you garbage and the day pretty much goes downhill from there. Not that I really care because there is nothing I can quite put my finger on. But I have this nagging feeling. This annoyed, uneasy I should have shot while I had the chance feelings.

Punching sharks is probably a nice euphemism for doing stupid things, like when you should be praying, or trying to protect yourself from the attack, you try to punch the shark. In all likelihood, you’ll miss, a raggy will rip your arm off and years later, supposing you survive, you will regale the masses with if only I had connected.

Yes I have plenty of if-onlys, for nothing more than a life without regret is probably akin to the Johnson and Johnson’s baby food version. All prepared and neatly packaged in a neat glass jar. It’s good for you, but no one goes back to it once you discover the joys of chewable chewables.

My relationship skills is on the rocks. Yes I finally clicked that I was doing something wrong. But I think in my sabbatical I learned to solve most of my public relations issues. So it’s start from scratch again. Christ what is life without someone to share it with. And the greatest cause of relationship upheaval – fear. I am mostly rid of that. Or I have internalized it enough ready to pop out sometime after my 40th birthday when my future family (wife and kids) will really need me.

So no more punching sharks. Well I am going to try. Because at the end of the day, we are the products of our choices. And no matter how hard we push and assign blame, we make the choices. We decide to where we want to move.

Like I said, what is a life without regret.