Fear
This week past week was particularly difficult for me. Somehow the outdoors again helped me make sense of things. I’m not sure where this blog is going to take me (or you) but I’m going to keep on posting until I physically cannot because I know it’s good for me.
In the beginning of the week, some very unfortunate news was broken to me. My Big Brother, Larry, had a heart attack that could’ve taken his life. Before I get into the more serious matter at hand, it’s important for you to know why I capitalized “Big Brother”. Larry isn’t your traditional big brother — he is 70 years old to my 25. Though it is 2021, he’s not a blood relative. He was a volunteer in the Big Brother Big Sister program and I was an 11 year-old boy growing up in the inner city that needed a father figure. Larry stepped up and filled that role better than anyone else in the planet could’ve. For the past 15 years, Larry has made a major impact to my life. He showed me how to be a man and loved me like a son. That love will always be reciprocated. I really believe that if it weren’t for him I’d be in some rehab or jail.
Tuesday, I got the call from Larry’s wife. “Heart attack.” “Not good.” “ICU.” Those are the only words that resonated, I couldn’t focus on the rest. What I knew was that the person I hold highest in my world, could be gone. Because of my upbringing — a small, broken family, abuse, neglect, it takes a lot to really get me down about something of this nature. It’s tough to feel after you’ve seen relatives attempt suicide with your own eyes, or even just family meltdowns on holidays when dispatch yet again reads “## W*** Street”. I found myself in a dark, quite place. How am I supposed to feel?
My boss gave me the next two days off, figured it would help me clear my head. I’d planned a snowboarding trip for this weekend weeks ago. The thought of cancelling last minute was on my mind. I didn’t know what was in store for Larry, nor did anyone. I felt kind of lost — yet many knew where I was, they just couldn’t direct me to where I needed to be. Calling people made everything just a little less awful. It’s almost like someone’s told us that expressing our feelings is healthy, why does that suggestion run away from us as we age? I also decided that going away was probably the best thing for me in this situation. I cannot travel to New Jersey to see Larry, continuing my efforts of self betterment through the outdoors could be just what I needed.
The boys and I visited Mt. Snow in Vermont — great slopes in the beautiful town of Dover. We stayed at a hostel with free breakfast. I highly recommend doing that instead of wasting your money on AirBnb’s. We ran into fellow skiers and snowboarders, saved a bunch of money, and were actually closer to the mountain than we would’ve been at any available AirBnb.
As this is my first year riding, I learn something new and helpful every trip. The theme for this weekend — fear. For the last two months, I fell more times than LeBron James when he flops in games hoping for foul calls. For you non-sports fans, that means I fell a lot. Too much. Although, as I’ve gotten comfortable riding blue and some black slopes (slopes range in difficulty from green-blue-black) I realized that the biggest thing holding me back is fear itself. I’m afraid of breaking a bone, getting a concussion, etc. I slow down any time I indicate a steeper section of the slope awaits me. I’ve come to realize that going slower can equally hurt you as much as going fast can. In this regard, I am my own worst enemy.
About halfway through the weekend, I made that realization and decided to keep pushing out of my comfort zone. “Scared money don’t make no money”, right? The speed I got was blissful, once I let myself be one with the terrain. The wind blowing by my ears, the views of treeline, and surrounding mountains consuming me. I’m keeping up with my experienced buddies, progress! The mountain yet again served as therapy, I can now think clearly.
Why is fear such a crippling emotion? I feared that I might’ve already spoken with Larry for the last time without knowing it — that I wouldn’t be able to tell him how much I love him and how much he’s impacted my life. I feared that expressing my emotion on the matter would come off as selfish or a cry for attention. I feared that bombing down a steep slope that’s out of my comfort zone would kill me. I feared that I couldn’t be what I pictured myself being. I fought that fear and won, this weekend that is. Larry is fighting, too. He’s doing much better and leaving the ICU soon. I’m becoming much better than I was. When should I tell him that I volunteered to be someone’s Big Brother? Maybe my little is into snowboarding. Maybe they meet one day.
This message is an will continue to be unedited, unapologetically open, and compassionate. Who knows if that’s good or bad? It just feel right. If you’re someone that takes something from this, please let me know. Any feedback is good feedback. Weekly posts for now.