Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
scientific labels on most of my anxieties. I found it fascinating
that what I considered to be my own personal foibles were
actually recognisable consequences of the way our brains
work.
One of my biggest worries was if, through isolation,
exhaustion or general mental disorientation, I would no
longer be able to rely on my own brain to make reasonable,
considered choices. For example, I'd learnt through experience
that one of the first signs that someone may be getting too
cold and slipping into hypothermia is that they start behaving
strangely. They might become uncharacteristically quiet, wear
a jacket they don't normally need, be incoherent, or be clumsy
in their movements. It's not uncommon for people with severe
hypothermia to be convinced that they are too hot and start
removing clothing even though their life may depend on them
doing the exact opposite. What scared me is that it is never the
person affected who notices the changes in their behaviour. It
is those travelling with them that detect the signs. In my case,
there was no one with me to pick up on the fact that I was
making inappropriate decisions. How would I know if I was
making a decision for the right reasons?
In answer, Dr Pack had introduced me to 'Resilient Thinking';
the process of analysing thoughts and decisions in order to
understand the driving emotions behind them. It was a way of
checking up on myself, of making a conscious effort to examine
every decision to ensure that I was being objective. I could see
the value of the process but it sounded exhausting. Lying in my
tent on that first day alone in Antarctica I tried analysing the
fear that still lurked behind every thought, but found myself
being distracted by the slightest of sounds around me. There
was the soft hiss of snow being blown along the ground and
Search WWH ::




Custom Search