Tuesday, September 28, 2010 at 7:00AM | Amy C distilling fear
The existence of fear is ever-present in our lives. It permeates our environment and our actions can often be traced back to its presence. I wrote this post late last year while I was living on Kaua'i, and thought it deserved to be resurrected here.
Where does our fear come from? What is its purpose? How can we tell the difference between real and imagined fear?
Hanalei Bay, Kaua'i, HI
distilling fear
There is a question that has been coming up more and more for me over the past several months. It's a simple question, but one that provokes a lot of thought.
"Am I really afraid, or do I just think I should be afraid?"
I wonder if what I'm feeling is a genuine reaction or, if somewhere along the line I've come to the conclusion that I am supposed to be afraid of that something and so therefore, I am.
One of my goals here in Hawaii is to learn how to surf. I spent my summers on the beach in Southern California swimming in the waves. I have many wonderful memories of being in the ocean. I also have very vivid memories of getting pummeled by surprise sets. I remember feeling as though I was on the spin cycle in a washing machine with no sense of which way was up.
I've attempted to surf in Florida, California and Australia (without success). I remember feeling worked before I even got far enough out beyond the breaks to actually catch a wave.
I have taken a long board out only twice so far. At the instruction of my good friend, Adria (who has taken a number of lessons), we're staying in the white water, working on understanding what the motion of the water feels like with the board, and balancing on the board. The sand is three feet or less below me. I can touch the ground. The waves are not large.
Yet I hesitate to approach a break. I have a large chunk of fiberglass in my arm. I do not want to get hit in the head, or cut, or bruised, or trapped.
Are these valid fears? Maybe. Especially if I was a mile out at sea, with no one watching out for me, in surf that was twice as tall as me. But alas, I am in a safe environment. The risks are minimal. Getting bruised and a little worked is part of the learning.
Yet the fear is present. And this kind of fear—this fear born from past experiences—is the kind that can hinder progress.
I was probably 10, or maybe 14 when I felt out of control in the water. The waves were likely stronger than I'd anticipated, or became stronger while I was out. I remember being scared and not wanting to feel scared. I wanted to be stronger.
I was 18 and 20 when I was attempting to surf. I remember feeling intimidated by the strength of the water.
Yet now, at the age of 36, with a number of years of master's swimming and triathlons under my belt; with way more core and upper body strength than I've ever had; and in perfectly manageable conditions, I feel the familiar anxiety set up shop in the pit of my stomach.
I've had similar experiences while climbing, running alone, navigating talus downhill and in unfamiliar situations I encounter. I realize that some experiences serve as good lessons for the future and I certainly don't live my life in fear of fear. But I do notice fears arising that seem disproportionate to the current situation. And there are some times when the fears seem to stem from someone else's fears from my past that are more prone to fear, but to whom I relate to in other ways.
I know I will not always (or ever) have an answer to the question of whether the fear I'm feeling is my own, or from some other source, but I do know that being aware of the possibility that I may not be as afraid as I think I am, is an intriguing notion.
"Am I truly afraid?" is a question I plan on asking myself whenever I feel the telltale drop in the pit of my stomach. Can I tap into a hidden reservoir of strength and confidence? There are times when I know without a doubt that that reservoir is there. And then there are other times when it seems merely a mirage.
I want to delve into this idea of fear further, pushing myself to ask the tough questions, seeking greater experiences in this world.
Reader Comments (8)
Thanks for sharing this- absolutely resonates with me. Fear- it can serve a purpose and protect; but it can also hold you back and be limiting if you let it.
Hi Maria.
Glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for taking the time to comment.
_A
Fear has been with me as a climber since getting injured in a climbing fall in my lead class in the gym a dozen years ago. Fear is my biggest demon as an athlete. It definitely keeps me from climbing at the level of which I am capable. I still do lead climb sport routes outdoors when I can travel (there is no outdoor sport crag near us), usually only 2 or 3 times a year. I always feel the fear as I tie into anything harder than a moderate climb. Sometimes I manage my fear, sometimes it manages me, taking the fun out to the extent that I back off. That's frustrating. My climbing partners seem to have fear more in hand. But, I accept that the fear won't go away and I keep at it. I am proud to I keep at it because fear is terrifying and it might be easier to just give up leading anything challenging, to follow or top rope most of the time. But no, I won't do that. I want to learn what there is to learn from continuing to face my fear.
Does it ever go the other way for you? If it makes sense to "not be as afraid as I think I am", shouldn't it also make sense to "be more afraid than I think I am"?
Really great question, Laurel.
For me personally, it rarely, if ever, goes the other way. I tend to underestimate my abilities and opt for safety over risk, so I'm learning that my fear is often based more in my mind. Although, I wonder now... have there been times when I acted without fear that in hindsight was a scary situation? Hmmm... good food for thought.
You bring up a really great point and I'd love to hear experiences from others on this topic.
Anne,
Great insight. Thanks so much for commenting. I'm with you on feeling that sometimes I'm able to manage it, and at others, it overwhelms me. But I know that facing my fears always teaches me something important, which keeps me digging into the topic and exploring the nuances and boundaries of fear.
The reason I ask is that I seem to be less afraid than most people and I often get feedback from other people telling me that I should be afraid of things that I am not that afraid of. I'm definitely nervous sometimes and avoid things that I think will be unpleasant sometimes, but it doesn't seem like the overwhelming feeling that a lot of people describe.
I don't think I'm unaware of risks or taking unreasonable chances, but maybe I'm just in denial.
I hear you Laurel.
It can be hard to navigate between what you hear from other sources and people and what you experience... and then figuring out what applies and what you can simply say, "well, that's not me."
My best advice is to trust yourself. Listening to what others have to say is important, but you don't always (or ever) have to agree. Consider their opinions and assess the source (i.e., is it your mom telling you to be more careful or an experienced climbing partner?). Ask the questions, but then trust the answers that come to you. That resonate and apply to you. You know yourself best.
Thinking about and exploring options is a wonderful way to grow and learn, but if the answers or advice doesn't resonate, then they just don't. Be careful not to get swayed by too many external influences. Trust yourself and your instincts.
It could simply mean that you're a lot more tolerant of risk and more confident in your abilities than a lot of us. Which, you know... isn't a bad thing. ;-)
Hugs,
Amy