A few weeks ago, I went through a sour gas training and safety course with work. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting too much going into it. As far as work-mandated training goes, it was just a box I was trying to get checked off the to-do list. Of course, it is in the most unlikely of places that you find some of the most valuable wisdom.
One of the first things our instructor did was ask around the room what everyone’s experience with sour gas was, and then he just started talking. One of the first things he asked was if people were scared of sour gas. Mixed response. He just shrugged it off and said something along the lines of “it’s good to be scared. It’s healthy to be scared. What’s not okay is if you let your fear shut you down. Acknowledge your fear; learn about it. Prepare for it. Challenge it. Be better than it. That’s what we’re doing today”.
Um, okay? I came here to learn how to put on an oxygen tank, not get targeted anxiety therapy from a 62 year-old grizzled oil worker named Greg.
The thing is, I’ve known this for years. It’s a common concept. But in the face of anxiety, it can be very easy to forget. I am not an impulsive person, but I am a cautious person (shocker, I know. Let me explain). When I make a decision, I often consider as many contingencies and outcomes as possible. When I make a phone call, I rehearse it about four times before I dial. I refuse to take my keycards off my pants in fear of forgetting them.
Ultimately, in this regard, there is something of a gap between who I am on the mats and who I am off of them. I do not rehearse my warm-ups (for the most part). I do not break down every little contingency. For better or for worse, I thrive on a “do-what-I-want” attitude. I like to think that I am relatively unbothered by performing in demos, too. I mean, I still get thrown off by things like space limitations on a stage and the timing required, but nothing compared to what it used to be. In my first IHC year, the amount of times I completed my form in an actual demo was definitely below 20%. I would panic, mess up, and swing my broadsword until I could figure out how to get my last few moves in to cue for the person following me (which was usually Sihing J Lagner. I’ll apologize to her if I ever get the chance).
When I consider it, this is because Kung Fu has been one of the longest constants in my life. Once upon a time, it used to be a source of anxiety and fear. But over the course of many years, I have acknowledged that anxiety and fear. I have learned about it. I have prepared for it. I have challenged it. I have become better than it (most days, atleast).
It’s unfortunate it’s not a quick process, but there’s satisfaction in knowing that time does help.
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