Sometimes I think it would be cool to go to space. The idea of being miles above Earth and taking in a view that so few get to see for themselves in real life is a little mind-blowing. Well, for about five minutes. Those would be the five minutes before my brain starts reminding me of any number of things that could go wrong on an extra-terrestrial mission. Number one on that list is definitely the fact that I could potentially float away into oblivion, never to be seen again.
Even typing that last sentence made my heart beat a little faster.
Okay. I get the fact that I am not actually an astronaut and a trip to space is not likely to be readily available to non-billionaire civilians in my lifetime. My worries are pretty irrational, but, as a general rule, fear does not mess around with logic. To fear, rationality is as foreign as the surface of Mars. That is why things as simple as wearing your first two-piece at the beach, starting a new job, or setting a healthy boundary can feel as risky as donning a space suit to perform routine maintenance clipped to the outside of the International Space Station.
Fear tricks us into believing that finding belonging in the unknown is not possible, and that daring to challenge it only ever leads to us drifting solo without a way back. There is always risk when we choose to be brave, but without risk there is no reward, and staying home because we're afraid pretty much guarantees we'll end up alone.
This life is not forever.
Do you really want to spend the time you've got looking backward?
Also, I looked up whether anyone has actually ever been lost in space.
Not a single one.
Thank you for joining me. I am so glad you’re here!