The mind killer

I can't explain why, but right now I'm more scared than I can ever remember. I'm going back to Israel again. I'm doing another volunteer gig. Just for longer. In fact, this length of time was the plan two years ago. So why does it scare me?

Is it because now I have expectations? Two years ago everything and everyone was a largely unknown quantity. Or more importantly to me- I was an unknown quantity to them. The idea of living in someone else who's not family's home for over a week is just- well, it's pretty much unheard of for me.

It's pretty much a given that sequels don't measure up. My first road trip to the Jersey Shore (Way before MTV had ever heard of "Guidettes.") brought back a new sense of confidence and some really awesome photos. The same trip the next year had me bringing back blisters, a little sunburn and a lot of photos that were just trying too hard to live up to what came before. So maybe I'm just worried that I set the bar a bit too high.

The problem with this fear is that I can't confront something when I don't know where it's coming from. For screwing up on a grand scale- all evidence is to the contrary of that. Maybe it's that I don't know what the endgame is here?

This could be the experience that helps me decide whether or not I want to move there. What then for my family? A job? My friends? The fact that I am an American citizen and the idea of being naturalized somewhere else is a bit of a problem for me with that? I don't know. I've always been the kind of person to think way too far ahead. And now I'm agonizing over what to take, or cut out from my bag which has gotten too full. Sometimes I think that if I ever found true happiness I would stub my toe on purpose just so I had something I could relate better too.

Considering that I'm a middle class, white, American who's already got some stamps on his passport- maybe I'm already doing just that.

Well, until i figure it all out, hang on to your butts because the Gonzo Photographer is going downrange.