Megalophobia, or the fear of large objects, is not something that I suffer from. I actually love to feel small compared to other things. I love wandering amongst the sequoias in California, listening to them creak in the wind. I love gazing through telescopes and binoculars, to bring our big old universe up close. I absolutely adore going deep into the Blue Ridge Mountains, far enough in so that I can feel embraced by the land without any human interruption.
As a child I was into whales and elephants and dinosaurs and giraffes. Who am I kidding? I still am. I also enjoy operating a couple of million pounds of concrete and steel in the form of a drawbridge, using only my index finger. This job was made for me.
I love broad expanses and sweeping views. I actually enjoy being loomed over. If there is a way to climb on a gigantic statue, I will find it. I’m always fascinated when I see something that’s man-made and yet huge, such as the Hoover Dam. I’m convinced that my love of travel stems from the feeling I have when I’m reminded of just how enormous the world truly is.
I think the reason these things appeal to me so much is that they remind me that even my biggest worries aren’t that big. If I drop my problems into the Grand Canyon, they will all but disappear. If I get too far inside my head, all I have to do is gaze out at the ocean and I know, instinctively, that all the tears I’ve ever cried in my life would not make a dent in its depth. When I allow myself to feel small, I can relax in the knowledge that life is full of possibilities, and we are full of potential.
I’m pretty sure that the opposite of Megalophobia would be Megalophilia, but references to that word are sparse on the internet, and when you do find them, they tend to have a mild sexual component to them. I love large objects, but not to that extent. I have no desire to have an intimate relationship with Mt. Rushmore, for example. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)
What inspired me to write this post was an article that Dear Husband shared with me. It’s entitled “Photos That Made Us Feel Like Tiny Specs of Dust”. I urge you to check it out. It’s 45 photographs of colossal things. Looking at these images gave me a profound feeling of calmness. I really feel bad for the phobics out there. They probably never feel calm at all. In this stressful world of ours, I’m beginning to realize that calm is a precious state to be in, indeed.
On a more serious note, I urge all of you to stand with David in this David and Goliath war between Ukraine and Russia. Ukraine may not have the armaments, but they have the heart and the integrity, and they remind us all how important freedom is.
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The View from a Drawbridge 
I never feel small in the presence of big things; I just feel impressed (sometimes), and even better, as if I was myself augmented. Wonder doesn’t diminish me. Truth be told, sometimes I don’t think much about myself at those moments, but I am glad to be able to observe and know.
“Wonder doesn’t diminish me.” I love that. I may have to find an opportunity to use that at some point. And you challenge me to describe my feelings with more detail. Maybe it’s not insignificant or small that I feel, exactly, because there’s a great deal of comfort that comes with that feeling, too. Perhaps I should call it that state of suddenly realizing that there is much more. More potential. More possibilities. More room to grow.
Absotively. I always got bugged/creeped out when someone said “It’s a small world”–and no I didn’t go to Disneyland.