I jumped straight out of bed when the alarm went off. I knew immediately that it was the home alarm system, not my alarm clock. Without hesitation, and in the pitch black of night, I flew open my bedroom door and went straight to the front door. It was standing wide open. My immediate thought was, “I guess I didn’t latch and lock the door when I went to bed and the wind blew it open.” But then a voice said, “I’m sorry M’am. I’m so sorry.” In my sleep addled brain, I asked, “What time is is?” “It’s 6:00. I’ll come back later.”
By now, I had realized that it was M, the woman who cleans my house. She kept apologizing, and I kept reassuring her that it was fine, it was time for me to wake up anyway, and that she could come back at 8:00. She had mistakenly thought I was out of town.
When I was back in my bedroom, now completely wide awake, I began to dress for the day. Then I stopped and laughed at myself.
What good was this alarm if my response was to rush to the front door and into the arms of a potential thief or murderer? The better action would have been to stay in my bedroom, lock the doors, and call 911. But no, my instinct was to confront the damn alarm and make the noise stop.
I was reminded of when I first moved into this house. I had never had an alarm system, but this house is very near the street with windows along the front. I felt exposed, and an alarm system seemed the responsible thing to do.
My baby grand piano sits just inside the front door, a French door, and can be seen from the street. What if someone saw the piano and wanted to steal it? That alarm system would gain me a measure of security. A few minutes after that thought, I realized that it would take a dedicated thief with eight strong friends to try to steal my baby grand piano!
So my security and self-preservation skills are pretty lacking. I don’t know why that is. Maybe I’ve had such a sheltered life that I am privileged to never having to worry about my safety. Maybe I have a child-like belief that nothing bad will happen to me. Maybe my mind is focused on other things, and security is just not on my radar.
When I hike solo, I never really worry about my safety. I take some precautions, but not consistently. I might have a fleeting thought about a bear or a snake or a fall, but the thought passes pretty quickly. I wonder if I would ever be alert to an actual dangerous situation on a trail or on my travels? Evidently not, if my reaction to my home alarm going off is to run right into the situation.
Fear absolutely has its place. It can keep you safe. Being alert to dangerous situations can save your life. There are reasons we carry insurance, share our travel itineraries with our loved ones, and use seatbelts. Leaving our lives in the hands of providence isn’t smart.
I really need to better learn this lesson. And just so you don’t get the wrong impression, I do not cast my fate to the winds all the time. I look both ways when I cross the street for example. I hydrate when I hike. I carry identification.
And I do have a plan for if that alarm goes off again in the middle of the night: I’ll be sleeping with a baseball bat and not running to the front door!