That Moment

On July 15th, 2015 I stood on a stage and presented my thesis to an audience of 200 people.

I had no notes to accompany me, I could not glance at the screen behind me for any cues of what was next. I had to trust that the remote control I was blindly pressing was advancing the visual presentation. I had to emphatically follow a sermon-like audio clip of Neil DeGrasse Tyson… but I did it, and I did a pretty good job at it too.

In those moments up on stage, I think I left my own body. Jesus, Buddha–someone–took the wheel and guided me through it all.

The previous six weeks of research and planning for this thesis, the 10 months of school before that–being trained, being groomed–was all in preparation for this moment.

Every decision I’ve made, every path I’ve taken in life had led me to that theater seat, waiting to present. I imagine its the closest I’ll ever feel to being an astronaut.

And it felt like this.

You’re strapped in, the helmet is on, the countdown clock is approaching T-minus zero. But you know that you’re on the launch pad still, technically speaking, and all it takes is one transmission from where you are sitting and you could call the whole thing off. You could go home–cold feet they’ll say–and yeah, it might sting for a minute or two, but your life will go on. You have the power to make that decision right now, but you don’t.

You don’t because you’ve devoted the time to this–the late nights, the early mornings, those days filled with progress and even the ones wrought with doubt–everything, to this. You go over what you need to say and what you need to do a thousand times in your head. You are ready. And so you walk up those stairs and… lift-off.

You know that the hours and weeks and months of work was for the main event–the exploration into space, your presentation–the actual thing itself, of course. That’s what they tell you. But maybe, when you look back after some time has passed, you realize all of that work was preparing you for the moment just before lift-off. When you had the chance to turn around, run away and never look back… but you didn’t. You were strong in the face of uncertainty.

And while you didn’t earn a medal or a mission patch for your valiant journey into space, you will carry the sense of pride and accomplishment from that moment for the rest of your life.