The Thrill Of Survival

Walking alone in the woods in the dark in Britain, my heart leaps at a strange sound in the night. But I' am definitely not about to be attacked by a hungry creature with a yearning for a tasty human treat, because there are no longer any dangerous beasties on our island. I’m just being hijacked by an ancient part of my brain which wants me to survive above and beyond anything else.

Stage fright falls into this same category.

Which means that … the butterflies in the tummy, shaky hands , nausea, dry mouth, and rapid breathing … telling me that something bad is about to happen if I don’t take some avoiding action, are completely pointless.

It turns out, more often than not, when I press on and sing those songs to the ravenous pack of wolves before me, that I don’t get eaten alive. Hallelujah.

Our emotions are very weird though. It also turns out that not dying, even though I was never actually going to die in the first place (!!!), can really get the happy endorphins kicking in. I survived. Yay!

What strange creatures we are.

Sometimes you’ve just got to roll with it.