I never understood why Adrenalin Junkies confused, or worse, terrified the people more apt to “playing it safe.” Every time I’ve seen someone squirm as a person does some BASE jumping, skydiving or bungey jumping—most likely this squirming happened while we were watching said activities on the television—I can’t grasp their fear for this stranger.
Certain individuals subscribe to Wallace Steven’s edict that “Death is the mother of beauty,” and as such they’re likely to take that line to its inevitable extreme: playing with death to augment a life littered with banal activies.
You wake up, brush your teeth, shower, go to work, eat, work, go home, eat again, brush your teeth, and maybe read a book or go work out, then fall back asleep. If you’re lucky, maybe you’re doing the sex to someone you’re in love with in the middle of this every day routine. But then, you still rinse, and repeat.
Obviously human beings are hardwired to find routines in order to deal with the avalanche of things we can’t control (this is why some people have such a hard time on airplanes—its placing control of one’s life in another’s hands). I get this side of “playing it safe,” and I even often subscribe to it myself, but some people simply can’t live that way.
These Adrenalin Junkies are hardwired to only feel real joy when faced with the the ultimate punishment: sloughing off this mortal coil. It’s a natural extension of Steven’s line. Death makes everything in life more beautiful. The yin and yang complimenting each other; you’re only truly alive inside when they’re risking life itself in some dangerous stunt. After overcoming the risk and surviving, everything else is simply a waiting period until the next time you face what may be the final chapter in your life.
When some people take drugs to numb themselves against the awful routine of life, they’re not much different from these Adrenaline Junkies. Both sects of people aren’t content with the prearranged trivialities most of us place such an importance on. They’re combating a routine that’s safe, but also claustrophobic.
I don’t think there’s a “right way to live,” but combining the routines and extremes seems like a good place to start. Too much of one or the other and you’re liable to grow unhappy or dead.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go jump off my 5 story roof with a parachute before getting back to work :)
