The Fear of the Unknown

I've always heard it said that humans have an innate fear of the unknown.
But that's not quite right, is it?

I mean, in order to fear something, anything, you have to know something, anything, first. If you put a newborn baby in a tank with crocodiles, will it fear them? No. Why not? Well, (1) because it's probably unaware that it is even with crocodiles in the first place, and (2) because it doesn't know anything about crocodiles yet... like their big long jaws full of sharp teeth, strong muscles, or carnivorous appetite.

One of my biggest fears is losing friendships. Why? Because it's happened, and it really sucked. Another one: coming into the possession of a great deal of money. Why? Because I've seen it's effects in others, and think I'd be vulnerable to the same corruption. It was only after I knew something about these things that I feared them. And it's only after any of us learn anything that we have something to fear.

Now, ironically, here I am with a fear of not knowing enough.
I know enough to know that there's more I should know, and not knowing how to get there... that's a huge reason to be afraid. I've come to terms with the fact that I have a large decision to make soon, about where I'm going to spend the next few years of my life, and what I'm going to be doing during them, but it's pretty hard to make a choice when you don't know all the options. God, give me the options. I want to be able to do all these things I'm dreaming of, but I just don't know how to get there.

Maybe that's the unknown that humans fear... the not knowing whether or not you'll make it out of this life with all those boxes on your to-do list checked off, with actually reaching those standards you've built your life around reaching.
A recent 2010 survey found that 46% of Americans are unhappy with their jobs. That means over half of this country is waking up each morning to face something unpleasant. (Coming to terms with this happy little realization, that what's we call a mid-life crisis.)

I don't want to part of the 54%.
I never did like being in the majority anyway.

'Ding!' You are Free to Move About the World.

I've got some thoughts to blog about. But, as seems to be the case whenever my creative writing mind is opened, I am not connected to the Internet. So I shall type this up, only to forget about it in a day or so, unless by some miracle I remember to post it later this weekend. I find myself this particular Friday afternoon sitting in the Observation Deck of the Baltimore-Washington International Airport in a rocking chair, staring outside a wall of glass. On the other side of this see-through partition happens to be the runway from which dozens of planes will take off and on which dozens of others will land during the hour I sit here waiting for my family to come pick me up.

It really is a strange concept, isn’t it? Flying is quite basically cramming as many people as possible into large metal tanks with engines strapped on the sides and propelling them into the stratosphere. People sit in comfy chairs, drink coffee, read the news, sleep, watch movies… all the while thousands of feet in the air.

For most of us, this is a day-to-day occurrence, just another way to get from point A to point B. It never seems unusual to see a plane above us… we don’t quite need run to the windows to know what’s going on if we hear a loud jet fly overhead. But for others it is one phenomenon they will never experience. Many don’t have the opportunity (it really is a privilege to be able to fly). Still others, category C, don’t really feel the need to cast themselves off into the sky in a heavy metal rocket armed with nothing but a seat for a “flotation device,” thank you very much.

For me, flying is a freedom. I will fly whenever given the chance. I love it. It’s such a unique way to experience the world that surrounds us… nothing can compete with the strange perspective gained when miles above land. As I flew today out of La Guardia in New York City (Now, I know what you’re thinking: ‘A layover between Rochester and Baltimore?! How lame!’ and rightly so, for it is, indeed, lame. However, it is also significantly cheaper, and for a college student, saving money is very important. Actually, for anyone with half a brain saving money is important. Moving on…), staring down at the harbor where small boats speckled the smooth surface of the Atlantic, their masts sticking straight toward me like the hairs on my goose bumped arms, I couldn’t help but be in awe of the advancement of technology and the opportunities it’s presented my generation with. To list them would be monotonous. The very fact that I’m typing this on my laptop in the middle of an airport while listening to Citizen Cope in the most comfortable pair of headphones I’ve ever worn while simultaneously texting friends in various states should be enough proof.

I think the one aspect of flying that appeals to me most is the communal way of things. It is one way of transportation that brings absolute strangers within close proximity of each other for hours at a time. Now, I realize that this thought in itself may be quite UNappealing, but meeting strangers is one of my favorite things… especially in airports. Where else do you have the opportunity to have long conversations with someone you didn’t know existed yesterday, and chances are, will never see again? When so far up in the air, you have no one else. You only have each other. It is simultaneously isolating and bonding people.

It’s the prospect of glancing into someone else’s life, that’s what I like. I chatted with someone this morning while checking in, and then ran into him again at the security checkpoint and a third time while getting the essential 5 AM coffee. We acted like old friends, when in reality we had only known each other for about 30 minutes. Once, I sat next to a man on the way to Puerto Rico who was flying there from Switzerland. He was in the middle of interviewing for two jobs, one in each country, and trying to figure out where to go to live and start a new career. That was an intriguing conversation… I remember it clearly. By the end of it, we were sharing some chocolate he had picked up in Europe and swapping jokes. It’s been almost two years since that flight. I wonder where he ended up. Then there was this one kid; on his way to hunting for elk in Alaska with his dad… that was an interesting story. They had to bring guns, of course, to hunt with, and when they were checking their luggage, opened up these large black cases with the biggest guns I had ever seen packaged neatly in gray foam inside, like something from a movie. I think this was my first flight, ever… and my stomach just about dropped to my pinky toes when I saw that. Haha! But once my friends and I got talking to these guys in the gate, and our initial anxiety turned into curiosity and eventually cordiality.

I think that people who travel fascinate me just as much as travel itself fascinates me. There are so many reasons to be in an airport. Students, like me, are traveling home (or back to school)… business men and women are on route to yet another weekend conference… a family is returning from a once-in-a-lifetime trip to a foreign country… a rock band is leaving for a tour across the world. To quote the musical brilliance that is John Mayer, “Airports see it all the time/ where someone’s last goodbye blends in with someone’s sigh/ ‘cause someone’s coming home, in hand a single rose."

I guess that just about sums it up for me here. There are two elderly ladies sitting nearby having the funniest conversation (at least they seem to think so) and I think I might join them. Remember the next time you fly how funny of a thing it is, and what a privilege it is, too. And strike a conversation with the person next to you...9 times out of 10 it's interesting. Plus, there's a chance it could be me. :)