Last week I went climbing for the first time ever.  I’m afraid of heights.  Not clinical phobia afraid of heights, but “very uncomfortable with the idea of falling” afraid of heights.  I didn’t confess this to my climbing partners until I was at the top, and couldn’t maneuver myself into letting go and hanging back down.  There’s something unnatural about jumping into the abyss, whether it be attached to a climbing rope, a bungee cord, or a parachute.  Ironically, I’ll probably end up doing all of the above in the next few years.

Eleanor Roosevelt once said “do one thing every day that scares you”.  I’ve been doing that, whether consciously or unconsciously for the past 25 years.  I can’t say it’s made me a better person, but it sure has been fun.

Believe it or not, I get scared easily.  I try to mask it, but it’s nevertheless there.  Deep down, I know it’s all a charade.  I know I’m terrified.  But somehow, I’ve trained myself to say “que se joda, I’m doing it anyhow”.  Quesejoda is the name of my domain, and loosely translated means “fuck it…I’m doing it anyhow”.  It sounds a bit less explicit in Spanish, but you get the idea.  It’s been my mantra for a long time.

I can even remember when it started.  It was in high school.  We had moved to Michigan, and my new school had junior/senior banquets (you know, because Christians don’t go to proms.  I know, it’s weird, but bear with me; It’s basically the same thing, but with less conspicuous drinking).  I had been turned down by what seemed like every girl in the school, with excuses ranging from “I barely know you” (a really good friend) to “I don’t think I’m going” (she did, just with somebody else).

Somewhat disillusioned, I told my sob story to the software guys at the computing center, because that’s where I actually socialized back then (errr, and now).  One of the older engineers looked at me and said in his all too Sheldonesque manner “I don’t know why you waste your time with the less than stellar girls.  You’ll still be terrified.  Why not ask the most beautiful girl in school?  Wouldn’t you rather get turned down by her, than by everybody else?”.  I think he was making fun of me, but he did have a point.  It wasn’t going to get any easier.  I was probably going to get turned down, so why not shoot for the stars?

I thought long and hard.  Who was the coolest, nicest, and most beautiful girl in the school?  And that’s how senior year in high school, on the first week of school, 6 months away from the senior prom (I mean banquet), I picked up the phone and called Stephanie V.  I still get nervous 25 years later just thinking about it.  Obviously she thought I was kidding, because nobody in their right mind would ask someone 6 months in advance.  Nervously I said… “I just know everyone’s going to ask you, so I’d rather do it before everyone else gets to”.  I don’t know if it was pity, interest, indifference, or morbid curiosity, but she said yes.  I grinned from that day until banquet day in February.

Shortly afterwards, seniors had to send their SAT/ACT scores to the college of their choice.  I unabashedly sent mine to MIT, where I thought was provided the best computer science program in the world.  I think they laughed at my scores, along with my unimpressive grades, but I didn’t care.  I was on a roll.  In retrospect, my time at Andrews turned out to be even better, and solidly placed me where I am today, so no regrets.

I must admit that the job I now hold was similarly gained.  Getting a compiler job in the late 1990’s or early 2000’s without a Ph.D. or experience was about as likely as surviving a bungee jump without a cord.  But I didn’t care, doing things that scared me had become my modus operandi.  I was sure the interview process wouldn’t be as scary as asking Stephanie.  Lo and behold, I was offered a job 3 days later.  And I’m quite sure, the alternatives would not have been as sexy.

Throughout the years I’ve been terrified, almost every day, but mostly by choice: whether taking on a new project, or scrambling to the top of a mountain pass in the Himalayas, or bungee jumping with my eyes open.

Though I’d like to say I’ve always lived by my mantra, I’m sure I’ve had plenty of mishaps, but by and large I’ve done so, and it’s made all the difference.

Fearful of hitting the PUBLISH button on this post… but what the hell, the other side of fear is not so bad.

p.s. Ninth highest bungee jump in the world.  Notice my scared look and how I hold on to the jump master in fear: