Exhilarating Calm

Earlier in the week as we were driving to class, the car was filled with worrying and predicted catastrophe from my friends, an impending doom as we were about to take our first exam of the semester. Their voices were tense, their outlook bleak, and their nerves quite obvious. In fifteen minutes we would be given a test expected to be quite difficult, one in which all the students would come into the classroom with the sagging eyes that come from replacing hours tucked under sheets with hours of repetitive reading of the same dull textbook chapters. One set of eyes looked fearful enough to break down into tears.

But me, I kept my cool. I didn't notice how oddly casual my demeanor was until I was surrounded by my intense peers. I noted how peculiar this scene was, for me to stand as the calming voice among shouts of fear, particularly since I've long considered one of my biggest flaws to be a tendency to unnecessarily worry. After looking back at some moments in my life, I've been forced to tweak that perception of myself. That's because for someone who kills himself overthinking about the little things, I'm amazingly calm under intense pressure.

I'd much more likely get tense driving on an unfamiliar highway than go Donovan McNabb during the Super Bowl. I'm that guy who would pace to the mailbox everyday checking for response from grad schools, would fidget in the plane on the way to the interview, than became Bond when he sat in the chair and answered all questions from the dissecting interviewers. Giving a big speech has always been my forte, as I'm always more concerned that I'll somehow hit a misstep and not get to the auditorium on time. When alone to ponder, I get nervous. When hit with the spotlight, it's all business.

One night I was on the highway on the way to meet up with some friends. We had planned for a great night of acting white and going line-dancing. I had made the drive a few times before, but this time I kept overcontemplating what would happen that night. Of course, the reason for this was that this was not just a night to hang out with my buds and learn choreographed country animatics. I had an alterior motive that night. I knew she would be at my friend's house when I got there, and I wanted her to come along. I wanted to find out more about what made her tick, if I could find a flaw the second time around, if this mere curiosity could have some underlying potential. In my car alone down an empty highway for thirty minutes, I was left alone to consider what I would say when I saw her, what I wouldn't say, how I would behave, how I would get her to come with us, how I would get her to come with me, how I would react if she chose not to come. For a solid five minutes I was a nervous wreck.

Then I reached the house. By the time I knocked on the door, all the nerves had dissipated. A few moments later when I walked up the stairs and saw her cute face and the smile she gave me, I felt that same oddly casual calm I had on my way to the big test. All the stuff I had contemplated on the drive up was disgarded. I just did what I felt I had to do.

We had a great time that night. When it mattered, when I had her there with me, I was absolutely calm. And it was exhilarating.