Focus On The Journey, Not On Arriving

In All Of The Movie Portrayals, A Spacewalking Suit Seems Sort Of Insignificant, Like A Pair Of Shorts And A T-shirt. No One Thinks Much About It. But It's A Spaceship, Not A Spacesuit, An Entire Life-support Mechanism That's Incredibly Complex And Cumbersome. It's Very Difficult To Put On And Off. You Have To Run It The Whole Time You Are Wearing It, And It Redefines How You Move. It's Like If You Put On A Wetsuit And A Snowmobile Suit And Froze Yourself Solid And Then Tried To Go And Do Work.

When I Stand On The Edge Of A Cliff Or Right At The Edge Of A Building Or Something, It's One Of The Few Things That Gives Me Kind Of A Deep, Overwhelming, Irrational Fear Where It Affects My Physiology.

Still, I Also Know That Most People, Including Me, Tend To Applaud The Wrong Things: The Showy, Dramatic Record-setting Sprint Rather Than The Years Of Dogged Preparation Or The Unwavering Grace Displayed During A String Of Losses. Applause, Then, Never Bore Much Relation To The Reality Of My Life As An Astronaut, Which Was Not All About, Or Even Mostly About, Flying Around In Space.

I'm Really Looking Forward To It, If You Can Imagine Floating Weightless, Watching The World Pour By Through The Big Bay Window Of The Space Station Playing A Guitar; Just A Tremendous Place To Think About Where We Are In History.

You Can't Just Ignore Spacewalking Suit; It Partially Defines The Experience. So Maybe The Most Difficult Thing Is Becoming Completely Attuned To Efficiently Wearing A Garment That Is So Inhibiting To Motion, And Making It Look Effortless, As If It's The Most Natural Thing To Be Out There On A Spacewalk.