12/26/14John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York
About a month ago, I wrote in my personal journal about the unknown. I had intended to publish it in my new blog, so I left all the names out, but I couldn’t remove the distinguishing characteristics of the people whom I mentioned, and I realized that it was too personal to want to share. Since then, the unknown has become the known in many regards, but much unknown remains, and what remains the truth is that the unknown frightens me just as much today as it did a month ago. I am a very rational person with very irrational fears: small fast-moving objects, the dark, and the unknown. As I prepared this morning to face the unknown, I panicked. On any trip, there are so many things that can go wrong, and this trip was no exception. Granted, it was really just getting to the boat on time that mattered and making sure I didn’t forget anything, unlike the trip I took this year where there was a distinct possibility of getting lost in the middle of Yugoslavia. Last year, everything went wrong, but it all worked out in the end, and it was one of my most wonderful trips. My trip to India last month was the opposite. Everything went right, but it felt such a letdown.
That sense of panic was a very familiar feeling to me, one that has become all too familiar to me over the past two years, the past decade even. A decade ago, I gave into my panic. Over the past two years, I have refused to give in. Not once have I cancelled a trip out of panic, despite the sinking feeling of panic I feel every time I am about to embark on a particularly ambitious or dangerous trip. When I went to Iran and Central America, my thoughts were not fear of danger but rather fear of not being able to see a particular WHS. In Iran, everything went right, and I saw it all. In Central America, lots went wrong, but we overcame it together, and it all worked out in the end. Four countries, four flag pins, 8 WHS, 8 Official pictures. It was epic.
This trip is about one thing: setting foot on the continent of Antarctica. It is one of my 17 goals to visit all seven continents. I don’t think I will get an Official meal in Antarctica, never mind the fact that you can’t grow food or raise livestock, so any meal I would eat there would by its very nature be unofficial, but there are other ways to make it Official. My panic was not about that, it wasn’t even about getting to the boat on time or forgetting some crucial element of my packing. I could not explain why I felt the panic, so I did not give into it, just as I have not given in to my panic for two years now. Actually, that’s not true. My timeline is off. 2014 has been the year of my overcoming my fears.
It started last December, the day of my Vector Analysis final. There was a girl that would frequent the Hillel club, and I was crazy about her. She was exactly my type, and I fell in love at first sight, something I had only done, I think, one other time in my life. I could not not ask her out. The Hillel club was across the hall from the classroom. I came back after the final, and we were the last two to leave. It was perfect. I’d never see her again, and what was there to lose. We went down the elevator together, to the subway, and even took the subway a few stops together.
What was stopping me? Why did I not ask her out? It was quite simple. The last time I had asked a girl out in person, rather than through electronic communication, had been at least seven years ago. I panicked. As soon as I got off the subway, I found my courage, but it was too late. I sent her a Facebook message, but it was too no avail. She saw the message and chose not to respond. I tried to comfort myself by convincing myself that, if she was interested, she would not have cared how I asked her out, but that provided little comfort. Now, being in a happy relationship, it is irrelevant, but the fact that I gave into my panic is highly relevant. It was then and there that I swore to myself to never let my fear of rejection stop me from achieving my goals or desires.
The next semester I came up with a very simple solution. I would force myself to do things that were hard for me when the results didn’t matter. That way, when the results did matter, it would be easier for me. It worked like a charm. I went to parties where I knew I would feel uncomfortable. I started talking to strangers. I made silly remarks in class. I just remembered that that was how I started trolling my philosophy professor, which, in turn led to me going out drinking Thursday nights with my classmates. It was not long before I fell in love with one of them. The end of the semester neared, and it was just like the previous semester. Would I once again fall victim to my fear? For weeks I did, until the last day of class came, no, the second to last day of class. I made a joke that we shared, and it was her laugh and congratulations on pulling off the prank perfectly that finally gave me the courage to ask her out.
It was the hardest thing I had ever done in my entire life. She said no, but that was not what mattered. What mattered was that I had overcome my fear. What mattered was that my courage prevailed over my fear. How could anything I would encounter on my trip to Antarctica possibly be that hard? This semester, she became one of my best friends, and this trip to Antarctica promises to be one of the best of my life.
In fact, over this semester, I formed four new friendships. I formed them quite simply by overcoming my courage, by venturing into the unknown, by waiting for my classmates after the first day of my semester with a Cohiba in my mouth, by inviting an old friend out to lunch and later by simply casually increasing our texting frequency and seeing if she’d be responsive to it, by messaging a former coworker with things I knew would amuse her, by inviting one of the guys from the cigar store to hang out with me and my best friend after they closed. All four responded favorably, and, guess what? I now have four new friends. This philosophy, of doing things that are hard for me when the outcome doesn’t really matter so that they are easier when the outcome matters has served me extremely well over the past year, and it has contributed to the happiness and contentment I currently feel in every aspect of my life, well, the social aspects at least.
Oh, Day 0, well, it was a very boring Day 0. I got up early, showered, made my train, got to work early, did everything that I needed to do, achieved Inbox Zero, got fully packed, shot the shit with my coworker who was also fully caught up, left at 11 AM to get lunch and my final cigar until I got to Ushuaia 24 hours later, got my car to the airport, and was at the airport with plenty of time to enjoy the lounge, where I got a brandy, some chips, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish and head to my gate.
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