Crossing Chasms

I felt like Frankenstein, my shoulders stiff, my knuckles white. I was almost afraid to move, lest I became too comfortable. My heart was unnaturally calm, like the eye of a hurricane. I stood (I was actually sitting), facing a deep chasm stretching towards the horizon - interviews.

Despite practicing, breathing deeply, and de-stressing, my fear of interviews still clung to me. In hindsight, it was most likely a fear of the unknown - what if I messed up, what if my internet was interrupted, what if I forgot to look at the camera, what if I… 

Thinking about all of these unanswerable questions made concentrating and calming myself more challenging than it had to be. I realized I needed to change my perspective, and tweak my mindset to understand that messing-up was alright. There would be no learning without mistakes. Of course, this is not to say that I should try to make mistakes, but telling myself not to fret excessively over where I might go wrong truly helped me focus on more important aspects. By unnecessarily thinking about tripping and stumbling, the probability that my practice and preparation might fail me was much higher. Therefore, I let go and decided to have a conversation, and to learn as much as I possibly could absorb from the experience.

After completing the interviews, I felt a rush of something more than relief. It was as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders - a weight I had not realized I was carrying until I was not. My mind instinctually reeled back, running the events of the past 30 minutes, noting each with my personal commentary. I made sure to remember and analyze each frame, because each one seemed too important to stash away in the inaccessible depths of my memory. No matter how much I analyzed and made notes of areas to improve, such as speaking a little slower, better organizing my thoughts to speak with clarity, I knew the chasm had been crossed - I had done it.

I realized that I was only afraid of starting, staring at the gap and thinking of all the possible things that could go wrong. However, I thought of none of these during the interview itself. I enjoyed speaking, even if I was asked unexpected questions. Pausing and thinking for a moment was not an issue, and I did not feel awkward nor frightened. It was as natural as watching the setting sun on the horizon, taking one step at a time towards it, not looking down.

More than the joy that overwhelmed me at having crossed the initially fearful chasm, I mustered the courage to cross even wider gorges. Conversation, contrary to my previous misconceptions, was easier than I thought. I realized that I had always been assuming the worst, expecting the worst, preparing for the worst, that I believed it would be the same way as well. Fortunately, this means I will always be pleasantly surprised, though I will have to go through the unpleasantries of day-before jitters. Instead, I choose to take the best of both worlds - preparing for every situation I can think of, yet having faith that I will cross the chasm alive.