Into the void?

I was watching something the other night and the concept of l’appel du vide was introduced. I know that sounds horrifically generic. I mean, it’s not really appropriate to say ‘watching the other night’, but I was tired as fuck when it was on and I honestly can’t remember where I heard it. If you were watching something on any one of the ten thousand streaming channels recently and this concept was floated, do let me know.

Anyway, l’appel du vide or ‘the call of the void’, also known as high place phenomenon, describes the desire to hurl oneself into, well, a void. It’s referred to as HPP by the scientific or research community since people often feel it when they find themselves at a more significant height or elevation. I think it’s important to share that HPP has nothing to do with suicidal ideation. There actually exists no profound explanation for HPP that I was able to find online, but it seems to do with the mind’s response to a warning firing.

Huh?

Yeah. You get close to the edge of a cliff. Some rubble cascades off the edge. Your brain fires. ‘What the fuck, dude?! Back up!!’ Your psyche than rationalizes that you must have been experiencing some urge to jump or why the warning? That seems kind of farfetched to me, but then again, I’m not sure what would be a reasonable or sensical explanation.

Also, I’ve definitely experienced something like HPP. Not in the sense that I can remember actually desiring to jump off a mountain or a cliff. More like I have had the desire to disappear into a void. The unknown. The scary places. All of them.

This is strange because most of me rejects the notion of what is unfamiliar. The biggest parts of me that ultimately make me tick tell me to stick to the routine and regular, even if I’m a wee bit unhappy. Better to know what’s in store than to journey down an unmarked path, right?

I desire to hurl myself into this place of uncertainty and something in my brain tells me that it’s too frightening and to cease such thoughts, immediately. So then, I do.

Let me disclaimer that this is NOT a post whereas I encourage you to base jump or cliff dive or anything of the sort. I’m a lover of life in every way, shape, and form, so while I like taking a risk here and there, I’m always of the mind that we should do the best we can to protect these precious bodies of ours.

But what happens when the void is something more than a steep cliff? What does it mean when that void represents all the risks we don’t take because something inside of us screams?

There is so much shit that scares me. So much. I am scared to tell people how I feel but I am also terrified to keep it inside. I’m scared that people won’t like me, but I am terrified about what pieces of myself I have to give up as a people pleaser. I want to be connected to other humans, but I fear close ties and reliance in any way. I’ve never been afraid to work hard or be accountable, but I’m scared that on the other side of those efforts is a gaggle of fickle and disloyal overseers.

I fear not caring about my appearance at all and “letting myself go” but the idea of catering to some unrealistic and widely peddled view of beauty is exhausting, oh, and terrifying. I’m scared that no one really sees who I am and yet, I am terrified to let people in.

You get the point, right?

There are experiences in life that are sure to cause us harm and thus, the instinct to recoil and reconsider often makes perfect sense. But, what if that harm grows us? What if, without that pain and suffering, we cannot morph into the person we are truly meant to be?

Friends of mine recently confided in me regarding big changes in their lives. Jobs and relationships mostly, because what else is there, amiright?

Anyway, it was clear that neither felt particularly stoked about the idea of moving into something that didn’t make perfect sense in concept. There were too many variables to contemplate, many of which could not be controlled, and thus, it was too big of a hurdle.

I get it. Trust me. I’m not about to sit here and tell you that I’ve always been a big risk taker with my professional or personal life. There have been many times when logic has prevailed but in a way that was just, well, safe. I opted for the road that felt comfortable and cozy. Even in the face of unhappiness, the part of my brain that screamed ‘stay’ or ‘be quiet’ was so overwhelming, that it overtook any thought I had to make a change. To take a chance.

I would love to tell you that something shifted in my brain given all the suffering I’ve endured. That’s not true though. Even though I’ve suffered at my own hand and due to decisions of my own making, there is a big part of me that feels even more paralyzed to do something out of the norm. I’m so fucking scared to take a chance because I think that this time it will do me in. I said that a few weeks ago, remember? I said that some part of me feared that I wouldn’t make it out unscathed this time and for that reason, I opt mostly for safe.

You want to scale the side of a mountain in Colombia? Sure. You want to eat sushi in Nairobi? Yes. You want to make yourself vulnerable to another human? Um, no thanks. You want to let go of a friendship you’ve had for ages? Hard pass. You see? My HPP is different. I’m wired differently. I’ve felt the call of the void but more often than not, I’ve shut the door. Hard. Mostly when it comes to my emotional life. The thing is, I know I can’t stay there, in that spot where I’m scared. It doesn’t work. The equation is a misnomer. So?

So, how do you decide to jump into the void when you’ve been massacred? Well, before we go there, I think we need to discuss how we determine which events are worthy of this jump. Right? There are so many scary fucking experiences in life. How do I decide which of those should be faced head on and which should be left in the rearview mirror?

Well, we start by examining the damage that the situation is doing to us. There are times that this is an easy exercise. Really simple. We look at where the cracks and marks are and we go, see, that’s it. I’ve been broken and there is the evidence. Sometimes, and by that, I mean often, the damage is too deep for us to view it on the surface. The damage is sneaky and nearly impossible to view without a serious commitment.

I think that more often than not, it’s our relationships that prove most troublesome and fall into the category I was just describing. Not that it’s ever easy, but the real overly fucked-up relationships sort of put a spotlight on themselves. The rage, the sadness, the escalation- it’s evident. You can look at that relationship and see outward and obvious signs of its decline or rotting. The relationships that scare the shit out of me aren’t those. The terrifying ones are the others. They are the relationships that subtly take you down over a period of time. They are the kinds of relationships I described a week or so ago. Mental or emotional abuse. An overall ill-fitting connection. These types of scenarios wear you down over time, but they take time. It’s a process. It’s hard to see what’s going on until it’s too late. By the time you have a clue, either the house is burning down or you are just staring at a pile of ashes. 

I imagine it might feel hopeless reading such a paragraph. You know, like that’s just swell. You are telling me that the most harmful kind of situation is one that isn’t easily identified. That’s just great. How the fuck am I supposed to manage then? Well, while I know what I’m about to share might be a little cringeworthy, I’d like to draw a very farfetched connection. 

I’ve always been a beach person. My whole life. I feel calm by the water. The sounds, the smell. The air just seems fresher, cleaner, less bothersome. I’m not even a snob when it comes to the season. I don’t need perfect weather either, at all. Overcast, muggy day? Good. Freezing cold with snowflakes twinkling in the salty air? Sure. Doesn’t matter to me. I change up my attire, but my attitude is just the same. 

Of course, there are a million objections or issues when discussing the beach or the water with others. You know, too hot, too cold, too hazy, too messy, too crowded, not busy enough, etc. Then, there are the myriad dangers. Undertow, changeable weather, sunburn, sharks, and my particular favorite (read with dripping sarcasm), jellyfish. Yes. Jellyfish. The sneaky translucent monster lurking in all different waters, near and far. You know where I’m going with this, don’t you? Well, how the fuck do you deal with a monster that’s basically clear? You see, now? Do you? 

Well, experts will tell you to first know whether the water you swim in, houses jellyfish. This information is usually readily available, but bear in mind that change or a surprise is still possible. Jellyfish switch homes a bit based on the temperature of the water and the season and a million other factors. Once you have an understanding as to whether an encounter is possible, the three major pieces of advice (from a lifelong beach goer) are as follows: (i) be careful or avoid swimming during their peak season altogether, (ii) swim at beaches with lifeguards or other help (you know, just in case), and (iii) protect yourself with a suit or repellent. 

Seems reasonable enough, but is the application realistic? What if we are talking about what we are ACTUALLY talking about, relationships? Well, yes. Sure. To an extent. 

I want to break down each of these elements into parts and then on the very last day we are batting this topic around, I think it makes sense to discuss what happens if you get stung. What then? Well, that’s a bit down the road. Let’s talk avoidance and protection first. 

Let’s talk about a barrier for that sweet heart in the face of the call of the void, and what that really means. 

I prefer starting at the beginning, so let’s do that, shall we? Be careful and avoid swimming when it’s the season for such things. This sounds so simple, so easy that it seems nonsensical that this would even be a consideration. Of course, avoidance. That’s not how it works though. Why? Well, for a trillion reasons, but in keeping with our theme here, because of the void screaming our name. We want to avoid the water, but we are being called. Jump in. It’s lovely this time of year. What is the actual chance of you getting hurt? I mean, really? 5%? 10%?  Well, there’s no actual equation for such things. That’s the truth. There is the statistic and then all the shit in between that prevents you from hanging your hat on such a notion. 

The same holds true for relationships, sort of. There are times that we should avoid connections. Avoid confrontations. Avoid big decisions. Like when life is overwhelming. Like when shit is going wrong or the world is falling apart. Those are not great times to do anything because your brain and heart are operating in fail safe mode. Partial capacity. All your energy is directed towards that thing (whatever it is) and there isn’t room for much else. Sometimes we aren’t conscious of when something is happening that is sucking us dry. So, it behooves us to take a little inventory. Take a moment and catalog what’s going on in your life at the moment. No need to get too dramatic. Just a little touching base to make sure you can handle something else that may or may not work. 

Hold that thought. I’ll be back tomorrow.

x

L.