Damned right it is! Still, come Monday, I'm confident you'll go through with it.
And what does that make you? A brave man.
Brave for saying out loud that you're scared, and brave for still going through with it. We men aren't supposed to be afraid, but that's bollocks! 'Fear eats the soul' and not being allowed to talk about our fears weakens us. Boys don't cry, right? We're (still) expected to do all the dangerous, dirty and hard work, protect women and children from violent lunatics and if needs be go die in a godawful war (my heart weeps for those Ukrainian men who have to do trench warfare, this time with constantly loitering drones overhead. I even pity the brutalized russians who are sent out to die senselessly in meat-waves ... it's just ... awful, horrendous ... no words ...) And women need to stop gratuitously belittling men, lest they want to be left to fuck themselves. The existence of ugly prostitutes should give pause for reflection about the sexual dynamics in play.
I digress ... back to topic: I've come to think that
Danger is real - Fear is imagined
Example: I have no head for heights. I can sit on my chair, in front of my computer watching some video of someone doing something silly at a great height -- building a skyscraper, let's say -- and I'll feel queasy, a sinking feeling in my stomach -- vertigo. I know full well that I'm sitting safely on a chair but that fact does not get a say ... is it my empathy with the 'vulnerable' person in the video that triggers my fear? It could have been me? I call this feeling fear. It is imaginary; it is a product of my mind.
On the other hand; I often work with dangerous woodworking tools. My table saw blade will open my wrist in a second and leave me a couple of minutes before I bleed out. This is danger. Am I afraid? Naaahh ... I've done it for decades, you'll be shocked by how closely I let my fingertips pass the wood-eating machinery. Real danger, but no fear. Why? I know what I'm doing, I'm concentrated and focused -- on high alert! Anecdotally; When I've asked guys how they lost the tip of their finger, they always say; "I was just cutting scraps into firewood on the bandsaw when my thumb suddenly was in the way ... " --- "I was just ... " Vigilance relaxed ...
What's keeping your heart pounding and your mind accusing, my friend, is your ability to model/visualize the future in your mind, to plan ahead, to foresee problems (and likely to suggest solutions even when you're not consciously thinking about it). This is a sign of high intelligence; the ability to run a simulation of the future, troubleshooting, seeking solutions ahead of time.
Of course, the timing is not random: on the last day (night) of your holiday ... knowing that on sober monday morning, workaday reality has to be grappled with and wrestled to the ground ... and you've got a full plate in front of you: Treeschool teaching, your own Tree Company and work on The Estate ... Anyone not a bit apprehensive about those commitments would be an idiot -- and that, you are certainly not -- hence the anxiety.
I've never met you, just read your substacks ... but for what it's worth: I'm not worried for you at all, my friend. You'll do very well. There is a reason Treeschool offered you a teaching post: "That Jamie ... he's a bright lad -- we should keep a hold of him." They're not wrong, and they're not stupid. You'll be fine.
In ten years time I reckon you'll have expanded the Tree Company so you have two or three crews working for you; good boys, handpicked by yourself, reliable guys with good judgment; the cream of the crop from Treeschool where you're still teaching part time and enjoying every time you see the light of understanding brighten a student's eyes.
In twenty years time I see you and your love living on a nicely renovated smallholding at the edge of a deep forest, outbuildings converted to small-scale sawmill, lumber shed and woodshop. Your home will have a tight roof, two sound chimneys, beautiful fireplaces downstairs and Norwegian woodburners upstairs, and I will have made all new windows to measure so as to keep the cold winter winds out (shipped them over in a container :-) When you come home from work your cats will lie waiting for you, purring at the sight of you in a dry, warm, sundrenched corner of the log-pile, waiting for snuggles and food.
Many thanks for this multi-topical comment, I could write a series of posts simply on the digression! But I will especially echo the points about a) the souls of men (and a few women) being flung into the war machine and b) the trend of some modern progressives who wish to label some (perhaps "most" and a few even may say "all") masculine traits as toxic. For the former I have nothing but empathy and respect, for the latter I wish nothing more than an awakening to the fallacies of their globalist-materialistic-anti-human philosophy.
The point about fear vs danger is especially poignant. Thinking of fear being imaginary and danger being real is an excellent way to frame matters. Fear in many ways is a guide. It is a map to a future in which you're better. The idea that people are more scared of success than they are failure can explain a lot about how some of us prison ourselves with hardened steel bars made of a fear alloy quenched in rationalisation.
You've gleaned a good understanding of my future aspirations and that's exactly where I'm headed. Speaking of which, Sundays are big days for me as there is much to do. Starting with a not so fun task of digging back three feet of dirt in my allotted parking space at the local yard so that the trailer and truck fit into my bay.... (saves me an extra £10 per foot per month on the bill)
First - most things are better with music : https://youtu.be/QBy_ACHvEJs?t=1772
This piece soothes my soul.
"So yeah, it’s scary and I’m scared."
Damned right it is! Still, come Monday, I'm confident you'll go through with it.
And what does that make you? A brave man.
Brave for saying out loud that you're scared, and brave for still going through with it. We men aren't supposed to be afraid, but that's bollocks! 'Fear eats the soul' and not being allowed to talk about our fears weakens us. Boys don't cry, right? We're (still) expected to do all the dangerous, dirty and hard work, protect women and children from violent lunatics and if needs be go die in a godawful war (my heart weeps for those Ukrainian men who have to do trench warfare, this time with constantly loitering drones overhead. I even pity the brutalized russians who are sent out to die senselessly in meat-waves ... it's just ... awful, horrendous ... no words ...) And women need to stop gratuitously belittling men, lest they want to be left to fuck themselves. The existence of ugly prostitutes should give pause for reflection about the sexual dynamics in play.
I digress ... back to topic: I've come to think that
Danger is real - Fear is imagined
Example: I have no head for heights. I can sit on my chair, in front of my computer watching some video of someone doing something silly at a great height -- building a skyscraper, let's say -- and I'll feel queasy, a sinking feeling in my stomach -- vertigo. I know full well that I'm sitting safely on a chair but that fact does not get a say ... is it my empathy with the 'vulnerable' person in the video that triggers my fear? It could have been me? I call this feeling fear. It is imaginary; it is a product of my mind.
On the other hand; I often work with dangerous woodworking tools. My table saw blade will open my wrist in a second and leave me a couple of minutes before I bleed out. This is danger. Am I afraid? Naaahh ... I've done it for decades, you'll be shocked by how closely I let my fingertips pass the wood-eating machinery. Real danger, but no fear. Why? I know what I'm doing, I'm concentrated and focused -- on high alert! Anecdotally; When I've asked guys how they lost the tip of their finger, they always say; "I was just cutting scraps into firewood on the bandsaw when my thumb suddenly was in the way ... " --- "I was just ... " Vigilance relaxed ...
What's keeping your heart pounding and your mind accusing, my friend, is your ability to model/visualize the future in your mind, to plan ahead, to foresee problems (and likely to suggest solutions even when you're not consciously thinking about it). This is a sign of high intelligence; the ability to run a simulation of the future, troubleshooting, seeking solutions ahead of time.
Of course, the timing is not random: on the last day (night) of your holiday ... knowing that on sober monday morning, workaday reality has to be grappled with and wrestled to the ground ... and you've got a full plate in front of you: Treeschool teaching, your own Tree Company and work on The Estate ... Anyone not a bit apprehensive about those commitments would be an idiot -- and that, you are certainly not -- hence the anxiety.
I've never met you, just read your substacks ... but for what it's worth: I'm not worried for you at all, my friend. You'll do very well. There is a reason Treeschool offered you a teaching post: "That Jamie ... he's a bright lad -- we should keep a hold of him." They're not wrong, and they're not stupid. You'll be fine.
In ten years time I reckon you'll have expanded the Tree Company so you have two or three crews working for you; good boys, handpicked by yourself, reliable guys with good judgment; the cream of the crop from Treeschool where you're still teaching part time and enjoying every time you see the light of understanding brighten a student's eyes.
In twenty years time I see you and your love living on a nicely renovated smallholding at the edge of a deep forest, outbuildings converted to small-scale sawmill, lumber shed and woodshop. Your home will have a tight roof, two sound chimneys, beautiful fireplaces downstairs and Norwegian woodburners upstairs, and I will have made all new windows to measure so as to keep the cold winter winds out (shipped them over in a container :-) When you come home from work your cats will lie waiting for you, purring at the sight of you in a dry, warm, sundrenched corner of the log-pile, waiting for snuggles and food.
Reality begins with a dream :-)
All the best to you, my friend!
Many thanks for this multi-topical comment, I could write a series of posts simply on the digression! But I will especially echo the points about a) the souls of men (and a few women) being flung into the war machine and b) the trend of some modern progressives who wish to label some (perhaps "most" and a few even may say "all") masculine traits as toxic. For the former I have nothing but empathy and respect, for the latter I wish nothing more than an awakening to the fallacies of their globalist-materialistic-anti-human philosophy.
The point about fear vs danger is especially poignant. Thinking of fear being imaginary and danger being real is an excellent way to frame matters. Fear in many ways is a guide. It is a map to a future in which you're better. The idea that people are more scared of success than they are failure can explain a lot about how some of us prison ourselves with hardened steel bars made of a fear alloy quenched in rationalisation.
You've gleaned a good understanding of my future aspirations and that's exactly where I'm headed. Speaking of which, Sundays are big days for me as there is much to do. Starting with a not so fun task of digging back three feet of dirt in my allotted parking space at the local yard so that the trailer and truck fit into my bay.... (saves me an extra £10 per foot per month on the bill)
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