I was just 17 years old when I shipped off to New London, Connecticut to attend the Coast Guard Academy. It was 1979. Truthfully, I had no idea what I was in for. Yeah, I had heard about all of the hazing and physical stuff and mental games they play, but nothing can really prepare you for it. You just sort of have to step into it and do your best and hope for the best.
Throughout the four years at "the zoo", as us grads affectionately refer to it, there were numerous significant emotional events that I experienced, but maybe the first one occurred just a few days into my journey.
Part of Coast Guard Academy cadet training required each of us to embark and sail on the tall ship "Eagle" in our first summer. That's a story in and of itself, but the Academy quickly started training us to be sailors aboard this square rigger. So, in the first few days of our "Swab Summer", we had to learn to properly don a kapok life jacket - a clunky, heavy life preserver by today's technology standards - and then jump off a really high platform into a big pool, which simulated us abandoning ship (gee, could the ship really sink?).
Now, this was a long time ago, but I can tell you what I thought about this abandon ship practice: "I am from New Mexico, Jack! Nuevo Mejico. You know - the Land of Enchantment? The Duke City? Tuco Salamanca? Lizards, snakes, Yucca plants, Native Americans, and guacamole? Ever heard of the desert? I can barely swim. I have never even jumped off a diving board, let alone some platform that seems to be at least 40 feet in the air. And now you want me to put this orange albatross of a life jacket on, with big heavy security straps squeezing my testicles like a vice..and then you want me to JUMP??? Are you out of your (expletive deleted) mind? What am I doing here??" I felt trepidation. Anxiety. Panic. Regret. Nervousness. Heart-pumping scared. Oh, and, fear of embarrassment - because I couldn't do it! I was gonna get laughed out of New London! This was all a huge, huge disaster. I couldn't dream of a worse scenario. What had I gotten myself into?
I can tell you I knew I could not climb that ladder, I knew I could not walk forward to the edge of that wooden platform, and I damn sure could not jump. I could not do it. I would have to climb up, turn to the instructor - a surly, mean bastard, by the way, at least in my view - and tell him it was time for me to go home. It was time for me to go back to Lobo-land and go to the University of New Mexico and become whatever the hell I was going to become. Enough is enough.
One by one, the line ahead of me shrunk as all of these jack asses that were too stupid to know any better climbed the platform, walked forward, and stepped off the platform, not just willingly, but anxiously. I couldn't believe it. They dropped like rocks and the splashes were huge. And every dang one of them, literally within seconds, popped up like corks, swam to the side and climbed out of the pool. None of them were dying! People from New York, California, Rhode Island, Florida, Washington, you name it - none of them were in pain. Was this fear I was experiencing just for New Mexicans? Each person that jumped came out of this pool with a look of accomplishment and satisfaction, both males and females, tall and short, blond and brunette, African American, Philippine, Caucasian, Hispanic. I couldn't believe it.
In minutes, it was my turn. Heart beating like big bass drum, I climbed the wooden ladder, got to the top and walked forward. As my feet crossed each wooden piece of platform flooring, I looked down and saw the bottom of the pool through the water, still a little turbulent from the previous jumper. And I mean to tell you, it looked like a loooooooong way down. I stepped to the edge, toes slightly curling over the last board. This was it. My time of reckoning had come. It was black and white. No gray tones. Either-or, yes or no, a one or a zero. Jump and move on or turn around and live with the decision. I closed my eyes for a second, just hoping when I opened them, that this would all go away. It would be a dream and I would wake up all comfy and warm.
I opened my eyes, took another look down, and the water was calmer. I heard nothing and the silence was deafening. I sensed that the entire world was looking at me, waiting for me to jump, waiting to judge me, waiting to either allow me to be someone or be, well, a coward. I didn't want to do it. It was just too far down. I might die.
Again, I felt regret at this whole stupid Coast Guard Academy thing. Who was I kidding? Obstacle courses, sailing on some ship called "Eagle", twenty-one credit hours a semester, military training, and enduring all of the rigors of the "4th class system"? Come on. Let's get the hell outa here and go have some chips and salsa.
But, you know how the story ends. You know I jumped. I am sure it wasn't pretty. I am sure I looked like a scared cat being thrown into a lake. But I popped up, just like all the other corks, swam to the side, and no one was even paying attention to me. No one cared that I that had just done the greatest thing that I had ever done in my life: I had overcome fear.
I don't want this post to be too long, so I am now going to tell you something I want you to put in your back pocket and keep with you for the rest of your life. When you encounter something difficult that invokes fear in your mind, body, and soul, 99.9% of the time that fear is exaggerated. Ok, if some thug has a gun to your head, fear is probably in order. But for almost everything else, fear is just a crippling mental state. It is very nearly, if not completely, a form of dementia. We imagine things to be completely different than the way they truly are. It's true. The majority of fearful dilemmas in our life are utterly and completely imaginary. Think back to the last time you overcame fear. Was there really any major risk in the first place? You probably had the full capability to accomplish whatever it was that you set out to accomplish. But your willingness to allow fear to enter into your emotions led to wild and ridiculous thoughts and a complete overestimation of danger, risk, or consequences. That is a form of dementia! Your judgment and behavior are being altered! Your mental function is suffering.
I am not saying you should go out and drive 90 miles an hour on a curved road. That is called stupidity, not overcoming fear. What I am saying is that if you properly assess your risk and danger, you will likely realize that fear is unwarranted and unfounded. So let's make this new rule for the bus of El Entrenador: to ride on my bus, you must promise to properly assess your risk and danger based upon your knowledge and associated data. And you will act logically based on what you know to be true, and not on some exaggerated emotion. If you do this, you will accomplish way, way more than you ever dreamed imaginable.
Fear holds so many otherwise great people down, including me (until now). Don't let it be this way for you! Take the jump when you know you should. I believe in you! And you should believe in yourself!
After we both resolve to not let fear, the most ridiculous of all emotions, bring us down, we shall sit down for for a fine margarita. And for good measure, we'll throw in a Mariachi band and a chorus of Cielito Lindo. Please pass the chips and salsa!
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