On Being Afraid

"Stripped of your ordinary surroundings, your friends, your daily routines, your refrigerator full of food, your closet full of clothes - with all this taken away, you are forced into direct experience. The thought of such direct experience is ________ (fill in blanks here)"

My Answer: SCARY AS HELL?

When I look up the definition of the word "Scary", I get "frightening or causing fear." When I look up the definition of "Fear", I get "an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat."

I sit here and consider these definitions. When I actually take a moment and allow my mind to fast foward 3 1/2 months from now to a time whereby I will have a backpack once again strapped to my exterior, a foreign map in hand... to a time where the security of a well paying job is no longer, where the thoughts of the comforts and predictable grooves of my Ottawa bed are nothing more than a distant memory, and access to a car (Murkle) and the freedom it offered me is a reminder of a life I know longer live... I`m scared.

And yet I am not fearful that I am going to be kidnapped by some hideous chainsaw serial killer who has just been released from prison or of finding myself the victim of some drug bust set up in which I am held captive in some Thai prison on bogus possession charges. Nor am I fearful of being washed away like a flailing speck of sand at the hands of some Southeast Asian tsunami, or of being drifted away in some raging rip tide. The kind of fear I feel in the very depths of my gut is a different kind of fear. Symptoms? It`s that feeling of having all your insides contract together and organs which you never knew existed seem to cry out for help. It`s the feeling that your heart is beating five million beats faster per minute. It`s feeling like breathing is no longer a subconscious body function, but rather an all consuming activity. It`s that feeling that the walls are closing in, that you may have very well lost your mind, or that perhaps your mental health is in question and you ought to be admitted into the nearest Butterscotch Palace. Fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear that you just spent your last dollars at the local Farmer`s Market on a basket of fruit handed to you with a sheet of tin foil covering the goods and toothpicked with a bold neon sign reading "No Refunds." It`s holding out that hope and taking that gamble that removal of the tin foil layer will reveal a basket of luscious and succulent berries gleaming with juiciness, when in actuality, there is always that chance that the basket may reveal in itself a disheartening layer of rancid berries instead.

This type of fear is not new to me.

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On Saturday, September 30, 2006, a younger version of myself about to embark on her first overseas adventure in South Korea as a teacher of English as a Second Language wrote:

"16 hrs until departure...

... My flight departs Halifax in 16hrs... If I smoked, I`d have smoked 2 full packs already today... I thought this day would never come- and so it never felt real... the butterflies arrived late last evening... and they intensify with every passing second...it hasn`t felt real, but now it does... It all happened so slowly.....................yet so FAST!!!..."

"6 hours until departure...AND:

... I`m thinking about how funny it is that we often take things for granted. For two months, I wished the days away... complained that I was bored, that everyone else was up to new and exciting things... And now- I would give anything to have even just one more day of "doing nothing."

... I was wrong. I thought that I would have entered the "I`m excited as hell" stage by this time, but instead, I have gone back to the "I feel like I have ___ hrs to live" stage.
(((Don`t get me wrong- I am not scared to embrace the new.... I`m just so freakin` petrified of having to let go of the old (and familiar...)))

.... I am unable to eat or sleep... I feel as though I have had 10 cups of coffee too many- yet I have had none..."

Similarly, on Monday, December 10, 2007, a slightly older and only mildly wiser Marcella was about to try her hand at another foreign adventure and wrote:

"Remember the movie "Cutting Edge" about the figure skater who goes through partners faster than pantyhose and the hockey player who is so desperate for any kind of a job after he busts his knee in hockey that he actually agrees to be her partner? Remember how despite being on the ice were the best times of his life, Doug was as sick as a dog every time he was about to take the ice?

Even though those thoughts of running through airports, browsing local markets, and job and apartment hunting in a foreign land excite me, with 24 hours remaining until my departure every little ache or pain is sending me into a state of hysteria. This time, the travel countdown has turned me into a bad hypochondriac! " Oh no! What does this backpain mean?" "Quick! Take my blood pressure!- It`s high? Oh Good- at least that means my organs aren`t bleeding out!"

It will soon be time to break out my breathing exercises! (haha?)"

Tuesday, December 11, 2007:

"Is there anything as horrible as starting on a trip? Once you`re off, that`s all right, but the last moments are earthquake and convulsion, and the feeling that you are a snail being pulled off your rock."- Anne Morrow Lindbergh "

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I recall being a small child and always trying to cover up the fact that I was afraid of something. I remember leaving the bedside lamp on at night or sneaking out for an extra bedtime snack to stall bedtime because I didn`t want to admit that watching the night`s ghost show on television had made me too afraid to go to bed alone. It`s funny how as children we are afraid to reveal our weaknesses to others, and yet as adults, we have no problem coming clean with them. I`m afraid of upcoming change. "

And yet here are what the experts tell us. Change is positive because:

1. Change can push people out of their comfort zone, teaches people how to handle new situations and provides opportunities for learning and growth. It provides excitement and adventure in life. It can point them in a new direction that they may not have seen before. It allows people to experience something new and exciting; giving them an opportunity that may not have been present otherwise.

2. Change can provide comfort, knowing that it will come. Especially if someone is not comfortable or happy with their current situation, they can be confident that they can change it or that an opportunity for change will come.

3.Change is empowering. Though a person may not have direct control over the change itself, he does have control over how to react to it, how to handle it and may choose what to do with the change. When a person has choice, they are in control, and everyone always has a choice.

Tonight I find myself sitting in the comforts of my home. I am surrounded by an abundance of plush pillows, wafts of fresh potpourri... and the realization that tomorrow brings with it another day at the secure 9-5 job hours that most people would kill for. Huddled between the comforts of my pillows, I sit amongst them with a tin foil covered basket in hand... waiting... wondering... hoping.

When the tin foil has been removed, and the contents are made known to me, will I be satisfied with what is revealed?

Wanderlust Will Get Me Through It: A Year of Discovery for My 13, 21, and 87 Year Old Selves

I haven't lost my mind, yet, but some just might think that I have. Especially, if I once again, mention Elizabeth Gilbert. Don't get me wrong: Elizabeth Gilbert is an inspirational woman, but she is not one of the people whom I most admire. However, out of all the books that I have read over the years, the one passage that strikes the greatest cord with me is in her bestselling book "Eat, Pray, Love." In this particular excerpt, the protagonist finds herself, night after night, crumbling to pieces on the floor.  She is completely uncertain of herself, and no longer recognises the life she is leading. It is an eerily familiar scenario in which I have found myself, frequently, throughout the years.


In fact, I spent the majority of my 13th year in a slump.

The adolescent years are freaking weird. For me, they were especially difficult. I was (and still am) a painfully shy and socially awkward kid, who struggled with meeting people and making new friends. One of the coolest homework assignments ever (which also had a huge impact on my life) turned out to be a great coping strategy for me. In my 8th grade English class, we were introduced to the concept of a life list. My teacher made us each fill out a multi-paged form with our personal goals for the future. Over the years, it developed into a 150 goal list, and now takes form as a ragged, well-loved binder that refuses to close. As a dreamy child, travelling the world was one of my greatest fantasies. Now with a life list in hand, at the age of 13, I vowed to someday make it a reality.

Fast Forward 8 years.

I am 21 years old, and am once again dealing with my own personal struggles behind closed doors. Two years earlier, at the age of 19, I arrived at university to begin four years of studying nursing. Within a week, I knew it wasn't going to be the right path for me. Too proud to admit it, and not wanting to be labelled as a quitter, I stuck it out. I have always been extremely uncertain of myself, and my university years made me feel even more insecure. I do not have a competitive bone in my body. Being around so many people who knew exactly what they wanted to do with their lives, and feeling confident that they would succeed, made me feel inferior and even worse about myself. All I ever knew was that I wanted to see the world. I drowned out my misery by ignoring my textbooks. As a result, I found myself failing in all areas in my life, both personally and academically.

I also found myself back on the floor in the fetal position.

One of my sisters was staying with me for a few weeks at my apartment when she opened my bedroom door and found me this way. I had spent the afternoon crying, and I was a mess. She asked what the matter was with me, and stated that I was turning into one of those crazy people. I replied that I just didn't know who I was anymore. I decided then and there that it was time to do something about my situation. I got up off the floor, changed my status to a part-time student, and used the money saved to enroll with the international organization "Cross-Cultural Solutions." I ended up travelling to Salvador da Bahia, Brazil, where I volunteered at a hospice for infants, children, and adults living with HIV/AIDS. It was a life-changing experience, one of the happiest times in my life, and the key motivator needed to finish my degree.

At the present, I once again find myself in a rut. I am currently in a profession that I have no heart or passion for. With each trip that I take, I feel like I am getting closer to figuring out who I am and what it is that I am suppose to do with my life. Like with most major decisions in my life, while contemplating a year in the world, I often found myself asking "What would my 87 year old self want me to do?" One of my greatest fears is to have regrets in later life, so I often envision my elder self. I want to provide my older self with a lifetime of experiences, memories, photographs, and ramblings, long after my body disintegrates, and my head is full of loose marbles, as a form of nostalgia and entertainment. I strive to fulfill the goals that 13 year old Theresa set out, and on behalf of my 21 year old self, I want to continue to travel because I learnt, at that age, that it is what makes me the happiest.

 I am heading out on this journey mostly for my present self, but also for them.

Because I Need to get off of the Dead Horse!

Question: Why am I leaving again?
Answer: Because I am sitting on a dead horse... and I need to climb down off of it.

We all have our comfort zones--- my position on the couch trying to catch up to my roomate on the latest season of One Tree Hill, my medium Tim Horton`s coffee-two cream, two sweetener, my 7:40am wake up call trying to make it to work under the "ah crap! I`m ten minutes late" mark, my same day in day out fight with my dust covered running shoes...

I heard once that the only difference between a rut and a grave was that a rut allows you to get out at either side. And yet a browse through the self- help section at the local Chapters tends to cater to a population of which I do not adhere to. The employee stuck in their fifteenth year at the same job, the individual stuck in a dead end relationship, the woman who is so run to the ground that not even a credit card maxing retail experience leaves her without feeling a sense of satisfaction. I am none of these people. I am fresh out of university, am sitting before a buffet of job opportunities just waiting to be plucked at, and am too fiercely independent and unsettled to have found myself in that dismall or monotonous relationship. Yet here I sit, waiting, wondering, wishing, wanting... More More More.

I`m currently working on three separate and yet collaborating theories thought to be responsible for my constant need to change my surroundings. I always want something more. Day in- day out- my feet are itchy... and here`s why:

1. ME Generation:  Yes. It is true. Unlike my baby boomer (ish) parents, and rather unlike my older siblings who found themselves born merely a decade before me, I am part of a generation that is consumed with everything that has something to do with.... well, ME! We are the "entitled whiners" or rather, the "Milennials." We go about our days putting our own needs above those of others and wanting big rewards for little work. But rather as one jorunalist writes, "The biggest problem with the ME Generation isn’t that they are spoiled, or looking for the easy way out of everything. It is that they have based happiness on what they are seeking--- and this becomes a problem because they are always wanting something more than what they have."

Personally, I lay blame on the bra burning feminists of the sixties. The pristine flower apron, the starched doilies, the white picket fence, the dining room table full of hungry children, and the bread earning partner is not going to cut it for me. Passing cubicles as I find my way to my own, I am surrounded by a plethora of portraits capturing baby`s first steps, smiles, Christmas`. Is this what I want? Truth be told- I don`t know. My bra burning ladies opened the door to a world of new and endless possibilites for women... something more.. and I`m mesmerized.


2. Cape Breton Roots: If your father wasn`t a fisherman, and your high school sweethart didn`t pan out (or impregnate you before your college acceptance letter came out), the next logical step meant leaving the roost and the only life that one had ever known. Like a snail being pulled out of her shell, the only option  available became that of moving a substantial distance from that sense of comfort and home. School placements, job opportunities and field trips all led an individual further and further from their roots. And yet with the only known feeling of "home" being associated with a land that didn`t offer much in the way of social or economic opportunities, the Cape Bretoner was left with an inclination to keep on moving... in a perpetual never ending search to once again find that feeling of "home" experienced once before. And yet the irony is= you never seem to find it. The saying goes, "You`ll know where you want to be when you get there", and yet the older I get, I firmly believe that Capers are the exception to this rule. We are a displaced bunch of individuals.


3. Aquarius Traits: I was born on February 7 and therefore fall under the Aquarian zodiac sign. As an Aquarius, I need a great deal of independence and it should not be neglected. My independence is essential in order for me to develop and sustain the right lifestyle. In many ways, I am the quiet, retiring person who prefers her privacy. I will approach other peoples problems as I do my own, without emotion, logically and detached. As long as my views and privacy are respected I make a wonderful friend. My positive traits are originality, idealism, independence, and honesty.   

As an Aquarius, I am an air sign and I must realize that I need air, both physically and metaphorical. The Aquarian independence can also make me very remote from others thereby causing me some emotional problems.

As an Aquarius, I often find it hard to let anyone into my life; close emotional relationships for Aquarians are much more difficult than for any other sign.  As an Aquarius, I find it hard to settle into and sustain one due to my powerful need for independence. Closeness for me means modifying my lifestyle and tolerating an invasion of my privacy, both material and psychological. I become overwhelmed by a constant need to spread my wings and fly away!... (solo)

Regardless of whether it`s the fact that my year of birth automatically defaults me a breed that constantly yearns for something other than what they`ve got, or my Cape Breton roots that cause me to feel habitually displaced,  and even whether it be my fiercely independent nature linked to my astrological signage... it comes down to one simple fact: I`m currently sitting on top of a dead horse... AND it is time for me to go ahead and climb off of it! It`s time for me to climb out of the grave... and to put the horse in it instead!

I need to leave this material world so that I may once again experience that sense of humility that I once felt and adored. I need to retreat from those around me in order to escape the weight that I feel of their non- problems. I need to feel alive again. I need to restore my peripheral vision. I need to allow the new experiences and sights that will surround me to paint some colour back into my Emo rainbow. Excuse me while I embrace the upcoming year with a pocket full of brushes and begin to paint some colour into my own glorious rainbow:)

(Signed, the Aquarius!)

9 Reasons Why "I" Will Never Be Cast as "The White Masai"

 1. My spiritual journey in Africa was spent hanging out with the local witch doctors (considered the "quacky outcasts")..............

 .......as opposed to the "real quack," the foreign priest.

 2. My African romances never went as planned. They usually ended up looking like this.........

......as opposed to this.

3. The handsome man went off into the sunset with the other girl........

.....so, we never got to enjoy the view together.

 4. I was usually left to enjoy the African landscape on my own........

.........not exactly what great love stories are made of.

 5. I came across as being a picture posing tourist.............

 .......instead of being the hands-on-down-in-the-dirt local.

 6. I looked absolutely ridiculous in my big floppy sunhat..........

......the smaller, cuter safari hat was just not enough to protect my fair, freckly caucasian skin.

 7. My cow herding, nomadic Masai warrior was never able to provide food for my veganish/vegetarian diet............

.........nor was he able to provide me with a sweet cow-hide shelter.

 8. Only certain types of locals were willing to keep me company on long, overland bus rides.............

.........I never got to participate in long, stimulating conversations.

9. Trying to put all my babies on the plane proved to be a completely chaotic ending.........

.......and not the dramatic, sweet escape by bus that is so typical of Hollywood movies.