Categories
Out and about

Taming the lizard brain

The “lizard brain” is a term I use to describe the “old” part of the brain. The part that triggers the four “F”s of the limbic system

  • fight
  • flight
  • feeding
  • reproduction

An example:

Take a large human male, wrap him in neoprene, stick a big metal tank full of air on his back, slap a bunch of weight on him, cram a hunk of rubber, plastic and metal into his mouth, connected to said tank by a TEENY TINY RUBBER HOSE, submerge him in sea water and tell him

BREATHE NORMALLY

The lizard brain is the part of you brain that says

BREATHE NORMALLY? BREATHING NORMALLY does NOT involve all this equipment and it CERTAINLY doesn’t involve breathing UNDERWATER. GET TO THE SURFACE YOU MORON!! NOW!!

Heh.

I received PADI’s Open Water Diver certification about 11 years ago.

I never used it after that.

About 1.5 years ago, we went to Dahab, on the Gulf of Aqaba (part of the Red Sea) in Egypt.

I did a dive.

I did not particularly enjoy it.

My lizard brain was kicking and screaming.

I kept looking at my gauges and wondering “can I go back on shore now?”

I was pretty bummed out about it. Cause I “wanted” to enjoy diving. But it just wasn’t working for me. I did a few more dives and was never really happy about it.

Time goes by.

Another trip to Dahab. Another dive. This time was better, but still not really enjoyable. It was OK.

Another trip to Dahab. Another dive. I had a good time on this dive and actually enjoyed myself. While it would be a great stretch to say that I was “comfortable”, I was more relaxed and not fixated on the fact that

ALL MY AIR IS COMING THROUGH THIS LITTLE HOSE AND THERE ARE ABOUT A MILLION THINGS THAT CAN GO WRONG.

Hardly thought about that part of it all.

After that dive I realized I had conquered my fears and enjoyed myself. I had gotten back on the horse camel that had thrown me and proved to myself that I could do it.

So what’s next?

One thought that went through my mind was

Ok, you can do it. You conquered your fear. It is no longer bugging you. Declare victory and pull out.

In other words, I had nothing left to prove. I could retire from diving on a high note.

I mean it is a hassle.

It is a lot of heavy gear. It requires expensive equipment. Suiting up is a laborious process. And there is an undeniable amount of danger involved

If I want inconvenience, expense and danger, I can go motorcycling.

(It is a lot of heavy gear. It requires expensive equipment. Suiting up is a laborious process. And there is an undeniable amount of danger involved.)

Right? I don’t need scuba.

Snorkeling is fun too. Cheaper, less dangerous, much less gear required.

When we left Dahab last time (in July) that was my thinking: I am done. khallas.

We are back in Dahab for the month of August. We have a little apartment with a view of the sea and Wi-Fi. I am working and generally just enjoying living 2 blocks from the beach.

What have I been doing in my spare time?

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

I am now a certified Advance Open Water Diver.

A big thank you to Kasia, Pritesh, Shadi, Khaled and all the other great people at Sinai Divers, Backpackers Dahab.

Categories
Uncategorized

The grass is always greener

I, apparently, made a comment some time ago when someone asked me about how I enjoy living in Egypt and asked if I will miss it.

My reply was

I look forward to the time when I miss living in Egypt.

Now this was really an off-the-cuff, throw-away kind of line.

But my wife was there and she remembered [She remembers everything].

She reminded me of it a while back, and it is now my standard reply when people ask me “what do you think of living in Egypt.”

I think it sums it up.

Categories
NSTIW

A minor mystery solved

I have noticed, on several occasions a scene on the streets of Cairo, for which I had no explanation.

[Well, ok. There are MANY scenes on the streets of Cairo for which I have no explanation. I am going to talk about just this one, for right now]

The scene involves a man on bicycle.

This man is usually, but not always, dressed in coverall, usually green. Well under the grime and muck, it looks like it might have, at one time, been green.

And the grime and muck on this man is of epic proportions. One, if one cares to look, will see much grime and muck in Cairo. On the streets. On the cars. On some people.

There is a background level of muck and grime one expects to see everyday, and it becomes the everyday norm.

This muck, this grime….

It is truly a sight to behold. Enough that makes one cross the street to the other side when you see this guy pedaling your way.

In addition to this grime and muck, there are strapped to his bicycle a dozen or so, 2 meter long rods. With knobbly bits on the end.

At first I thought they were welding rods. But that did not explain the knobbly bits. Nor the level of grime involved.

Today, while walking the mean streets of Dahab, I saw this man in action.

He is the ROTO ROUTER man!

Those rods fit together to form a somewhat flexible “snake”.

I was walking down an alley and all the sewer covers were off and several guys were laying out these rods in anticipation of giving the sewers a good old snaking.

I stopped for a second to watch them assemble the tools of their craft. And then I realized

“Um. In a minute or two all that grime and muck I usually see on the bicycle rider is going to be right there in front of me, nice and fresh like. Time to move on”

So I hastily left the scene happy in the knowledge of another mystery of life in Egypt solved.

I celebrated with a milk shake on the beach.

And tried REALLY REALLY hard to not think of the muck-man on his bicycle.