Dirtbags

“If you don’t do it this year, you’ll just be another year older when you do.”- Warren Miller

The water glared at me from below, threatening my existence. Seconds were minutes, and I was mortified. The countdown began as each of my friends jumped, wishing me luck on their way down. I was like a rat in the corner, not wanting to jump, but my options were going out of fashion. Two paths before me, one an obvious elephant. A primitive state of mind. What made this first step so difficult? I jumped.

From cliff jumping to starting this next paragraph, I often live in fear. Fear of failure in the mystery of tomorrow. I wander into the eye of the storm, the terror of the outside drives me in. I have found solace in fear. From overcoming social anxiety to learning how to ski, what begins with fear ends with purpose. Like the monsters that used to live under my bed, nothing is so terrifying when we come to face. Intimidating people, awkward encounters, insurmountable feats. Monsters mash their teeth and stomp their feet, but when I approach, they become a harmless vacuum or a pile of dirty laundry in the corner of my bedroom.

Seek fear. Book a plane ticket for that ski trip in Chile you have dreamed of. Quit your job and pursue your passion. Talk to the pretty girl who caught your eye. We rationalize our fear, bringing the monster to life. It is harder to do than not to do, drifting us towards the least resistance. There will never be enough money, time, or preparation to substitute for action. I write this in fear, fearing rejection and incompetence. Hell, I have done dumber things than incoherently rambling for a few paragraphs and making a fool out of myself. I continue upstream. This next month will be fascinating. I hope yours is too.