An anecdote about fear
Last September, I posted this status on Facebook:
A few weeks ago—it feels like a lifetime ago! (before Reunions and graduation)—I traveled to Cancún with Elaine, Julian, and Andrea. It was really nice and, for the most part, a very relaxing trip. One of the non-relaxing things that we did was go to Cenote Tamcach-Ha, a water-filled sinkhole that features 5m and 10m diving platforms. I ended up jumping off of the 10m platform three times, which is really unexpected because I'm quite cautious by nature, and each time was terrifying in a different way. For reference, I've attached a video of the third jump below, trimmed to remove the 2+ minutes of stalling and hesitation before I actually gathered up the courage to jump.
Counterintuitively to me, the third jump was scarier than the first, because I knew what to expect—the moments of nothingness in free-fall were now known to me—and also because I put pressure on myself to resist my natural urge to curl up mid-air (which happened during my first jump, and which resulted in some very large bruising that only recently completely faded), since I knew what the consequences would be if I didn't.
I still don't really understand why I wanted to jump three times, but even in spite of the bruising, I'm glad that I did, because it allowed me to really notice and reflect on a few manifestations of my fear. I've been thinking about these jumps a lot recently, as I try and prepare for my upcoming travels and "adult life," partially because I still can't believe that it actually happened, but mostly to serve as a foil to the fear I feel around those areas of my future life.
In the past couple months, I've noticed myself feeling more scared about things that I feel like I wouldn't have been scared of in the past. For instance, one thing that I'm really scared about right now is the 7-day silent meditation retreat that I'll be attending in July. I find myself wondering if I can even do it (because of my scheduling constraints, I signed up for the advanced rather than introduction level retreat, and I've never meditated for that long before...) and feeling a lot of anxiety around the whole thing.
This doesn't completely alleviate my anxiety, but when I remind myself of how I was able to overcome my fear and jump off of the 10m platform at Tamcach-Ha three separate times, I am also reminded that fear is designed to protect us, but it often holds us back. I knew I wasn't going to die, but part of me was still convinced that I would, out of a self-preservation instinct.
I'm in a mindset right now where I want to optimize everything, and I think that part of that is that having (a perception of) control over the way things are going to turn out allows me to reduce feelings of uncertainty and makes me feel more safe. Although I feel frustrated at myself for having this urge (as well as many others, like suddenly caring a lot about conventional metrics of success), I acknowledge that my needs are behind it, and I'm trying to treat it as another opportunity for self-exploration and self-growth.
P.S. After I posted this, I thought of this mantra from the P90X exercise videos I did in high school that that seems relevant: "Do your best, and forget the rest."
What are some moments in your life that you look back on and think “Wow, I can’t believe I did that!”?
A few weeks ago—it feels like a lifetime ago! (before Reunions and graduation)—I traveled to Cancún with Elaine, Julian, and Andrea. It was really nice and, for the most part, a very relaxing trip. One of the non-relaxing things that we did was go to Cenote Tamcach-Ha, a water-filled sinkhole that features 5m and 10m diving platforms. I ended up jumping off of the 10m platform three times, which is really unexpected because I'm quite cautious by nature, and each time was terrifying in a different way. For reference, I've attached a video of the third jump below, trimmed to remove the 2+ minutes of stalling and hesitation before I actually gathered up the courage to jump.
Counterintuitively to me, the third jump was scarier than the first, because I knew what to expect—the moments of nothingness in free-fall were now known to me—and also because I put pressure on myself to resist my natural urge to curl up mid-air (which happened during my first jump, and which resulted in some very large bruising that only recently completely faded), since I knew what the consequences would be if I didn't.
I still don't really understand why I wanted to jump three times, but even in spite of the bruising, I'm glad that I did, because it allowed me to really notice and reflect on a few manifestations of my fear. I've been thinking about these jumps a lot recently, as I try and prepare for my upcoming travels and "adult life," partially because I still can't believe that it actually happened, but mostly to serve as a foil to the fear I feel around those areas of my future life.
In the past couple months, I've noticed myself feeling more scared about things that I feel like I wouldn't have been scared of in the past. For instance, one thing that I'm really scared about right now is the 7-day silent meditation retreat that I'll be attending in July. I find myself wondering if I can even do it (because of my scheduling constraints, I signed up for the advanced rather than introduction level retreat, and I've never meditated for that long before...) and feeling a lot of anxiety around the whole thing.
This doesn't completely alleviate my anxiety, but when I remind myself of how I was able to overcome my fear and jump off of the 10m platform at Tamcach-Ha three separate times, I am also reminded that fear is designed to protect us, but it often holds us back. I knew I wasn't going to die, but part of me was still convinced that I would, out of a self-preservation instinct.
I'm in a mindset right now where I want to optimize everything, and I think that part of that is that having (a perception of) control over the way things are going to turn out allows me to reduce feelings of uncertainty and makes me feel more safe. Although I feel frustrated at myself for having this urge (as well as many others, like suddenly caring a lot about conventional metrics of success), I acknowledge that my needs are behind it, and I'm trying to treat it as another opportunity for self-exploration and self-growth.
P.S. After I posted this, I thought of this mantra from the P90X exercise videos I did in high school that that seems relevant: "Do your best, and forget the rest."
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