How would your life be different if you were incapable of feeling fear?
I’ve been thinking about this one for a day now.
(I’m not scared of sharks.)
I know only one specific thing, I would try scuba diving. I might die doing so, but at least I wouldn’t be panicking and kicking and screaming while it happens.
(snorkelling, or, actually, this one is from the pier)
I would go on a boat trip around the world. I used to love boats.
(This boat called Moana saved us after the shipwreck, I took the photo a year later.)
But actually, really…. all our little fantasies, why don’t we get rid of all those things that cause fear but should be avoidable – aggression, abuse, exploitation, bullying, mobbing, deliberately hurting people even in a mild and seemingly funny way.
There would still be enough to fear – pain, sickness, old age, death, separation.
I’m feeling really unwell at the moment, and realise that my usual little support networks are gone. They never work from a distance. I didn’t realise how lonely I would be on the road. Even with all those conversations you get with others. There haven’t been many of those here in India. Too low season.
Maybe I wish I didn’t have this fear of being alone – so tired of being alone. And the most fearless thing I can think of is running back to a relationship that didn’t work and won’t work, because even that would be better than being alone. So incredibly tired. Sometimes feels like I’m a hundred years old.
In any case, just looking at these snorkelling and beach pictures, I know I’m going back to the sea, because that’s what I’ve been longing for. I wish I could go back to Raja Ampat or faraway places in Maluku without fear of a boat again. I wish I could stop being so horribly scared that I will never be able to hold down a job again. I wish I could just live with no fear of the future in this way. I was hoping travelling would make me feel better. I thought something as brutally challenging as India would make me throw away all unnecessary and cumbersome burdens, all my energy being taken up by the little everyday tasks of getting by. It worked out, in a way. But sometimes I feel like I don’t even know anymore who I actually am. This is not me, being here. And ten more days to go.
Sorry, this is not making any sense at all, but I hope you enjoy the photos.
(The photos were taken in Komodo national park, Indonesia.)