fear: noun,
a : an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger
b
(1) : an instance of this emotion
(2) : a state marked by this emotion
(taken from Merriam-Webster Dictionary; https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/fear)
Fear. An emotion that can range from a tingling of your spine or a roiling pit in your stomach, to rants and raves, tearing of hair, tears, sobbing, cursing and swinging fists.
How we deal with fear—or fears—can say a lot about our character, our beliefs, and our level of compassion. Our response to feeling fear is also dependent on what kind of fear it is. Trepidation, anxiety, existential.
[By the way, it took me a long time to really understand what people meant by ‘existential fears’, probably due to my limited exposure to existentialism as a philosophical or literary term. It always sounded so cerebral, so removed from life. No, on the contrary. It refers to our actual, physical existence. An existential threat is one that threatens our lives, or at the very least, our way of life.]
The level or kind of fear we face will be matched by a similar range of levels or kinds of response. While our personality plays a great part in where our own response falls in that range, there are times when we can, even must, make an intentional effort to manage where our response falls.
We can do that. There are ways to control our behavior, including fear responses. While our initial response may be out of our control, the enduring response doesn’t have to be—witness the number of therapists who work with anxious patients in Cognitive Behaviorial Therapy. It’s a way of training ourselves to have the response we need to cope with a given fear. It’s schooling ourselves on how to calm our thoughts to face a difficult conversation, to not have ‘stage fright’ , to be able to perform in the manner we want to present ourselves. It is, in effect, the inner mechanics of putting on boots and pulling up the straps.
[I’m not a psychologist, psychiatrist, or psych- anything. I’m a parent, a writer, an observer, and an impossibly intense inner- and over-thinker. So, wherever the above explanation is lacking, please forgive me. I’m just trying to reach a point here.]
There two fears I want to discuss here, both existential in nature, but in vastly different ways. The first is the fear of potential danger—the fear of harm coming to us. The other is—essentially—the fear of failure.
Both of these fears run deep in all of us. However, if there is no imminent threat, that fear isn’t awakened. It would be logical if many of us have recently ‘woke up’ to the awareness that our ways of thinking are not popular with everyone. Suddenly we have to defend ways we have conducted ourselves all our lives, because others have made a right turn in their beliefs, away from ones we once shared. And now they want us to change, to give up what we feel is the right way of living. They are advocating this change forcefully, with no regard for the effect that has on anyone, even themselves.
For many of us, it is the most frightening thing we have ever seen. Frightening in the way a tornado is frightening, because it takes an illogical path, twisting and turning, pitching things around until the world is upside down, and not caring a whit for anything in its path. Going where it will, wreaking as much havoc as it can, not caring what our response is.
Like other natural disasters, often the only way to get through a tornado is to wait until the winds calm and then clean up the mess. But some disasters require battle—think wildfires. Then the questions become: Who will battle the blaze? Who will rescue the trapped? Who will bandage the wounds? And who will restore the area?Who will communicate the truth of what happened and where it is safe to go on?
We fear paying the ultimate cost if we fail in our mission to turn back the chaos. We develop paranoia about what might happen next: What will life look like? Who will be hurt? Who we can trust? These fears of the chaos-makers and their chaos and destruction can paralyze us into inaction. The last thing we need.
The fear of failure—in any venture—has similar effects. Whether it be a new hobby, a new competitive arena, a new job, or a new home, all the individual doubts and misgivings we have coalesce into one big question: What if we can’t do it? What if we fail at this new thing we are trying? The obstacles we face can mount up; each one perhaps conquerable, but together, overwhelming.
Will we be welcome? Will we make new friends? Can we do the job? Win the prize? Play the game?
Can we make it?
To make it, we have to be able to make decisions, execute them, put plans into motion, relate. We have to be present and participating in building the dream with our own hands and mind and heart. Each little thing has to be done. Each little step must be taken. Everything we do should in some way propel us toward our goal.
And, as in several oft-used adages, these things begin with one single action.
Make a phone call and set up an appointment for an interview. Speak to someone at your new church. Buy the special sports equipment you need. Learn how to use the tools for your art project. Practice. Rehearse. Join a group of people who want to try the same thing you do.
Each singular step you take will create a path, one with forks and side trails and meeting places. You really only have to decide to—and take—one step at a time. Your path will deviate, make turns and curves, even become a new trail off into another unknown. But you just need to make one step.
Even if it’s a step towards controlling and re-routing the chaos, it can be a small one. Engage someone in a conversation. See where they stand. Talk with your neighbors, maybe there are ways you can trade favors that will make your lives easier. See if there are meet-ups in your area that revolve around your own interests. Find your tribe. Have a coffee—or just a drink of water—with a work colleague, get their take on your new office. Ask for materials to familiarize yourself with your new duties. Connect with people. Do things you like—and connect with others who do them, too. Take care of yourself, then look around for one thing you can do to make things better—for someone, anyone—and do it.
It’s all the things. ‘One step at a time.’ ‘Do it!’ Building blocks. Building roads. Building up yourself. Building up people . Building community.
All of this breaks the paralysis and allows you to discover what’s beyond the chaos or fear. And that allays fear, or… enables you to break through and fight the problem.
[The fear of failure has a special place in the psyche of artists, whether they are visual, performing, or literary. Our job—or calling, or passion—is creation. We are makers. We invest some part of ourselves in everything we make, and that exposes us even more baldly to criticism, ridicule, and failure. It’s a chance, a big chance, every time we create something.
Some of us get used to the rhythm of chance-taking, and we take a certain amount of failure in our stride. There’s truth to the rumor that if you never fail, you never learn. But there is always the risk that the failure will injure us irreparably. If it does, starting over—even merely on a new project—can be painful and difficult. The mantra for dealing with it remains the same. One decision. One step. One action.
So, as a writer, you scribble. You make notes. You daydream a little. You start to put words on paper. You create.
For the spiritual among us, we are never closer to comprehending God than when we are creating. We share God’s ‘hobby’, and it gives us insight. We may never know if we actually succeed at reaching another’s mind or soul with our creation, but the creation of it is the success. How our creations affect others is another matter altogether.]
Today’s photo courtesy dk minnick