Tag: fear

Walking Through the Fear.

03/14/2016 / Laura

Nobody like to talk about being scared. Is that because we don’t think we are supposed to be scared anymore, now that we’re all grown up?

When we were little, it was okay to admit something might be hiding underneath the bed. Or the Ferris wheel was just a bit too high for our liking. Or that weird-looking insect that just jumped on our leg made us feel uneasy.

But what about now? Especially since as boomers and beyond, our fears are usually a whole lot more menacing….

Cancer. Bankruptcy. Losing a spouse. Surgery. No retirement fund. Nephews, nieces, and grandchildren serving in combat.

Dying.

I doubt if anyone enjoys being scared, but I can’t believe we don’t all share that emotion from time to time. And it’s sneaky. We think we’re mad because the traffic is slow, or the dog just ate the newspaper, or our boss just asked us to do the impossible. When really, deep down, we’re afraid.

Afraid we can’t handle it. Afraid we’ll look bad. Afraid we’ll fail.

It always reminds me of the flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz. First there’s one. Then another one shows up. Then all of a sudden they are everywhere, swooping down and carrying me off to the land of despair. What began as a simple worry can escalate to global termination if I’m not careful. Why is that?

I don’t want to give fear that much power over me. I’m amazed how it can make my stomach queasy. Give me dry mouth. Make me feel tense and rigid. It messes with my mind and my composure. It’s one thing if you are literally staring at your fear—say, a hungry mountain lion. But it’s another when you know your mind has latched on to some worry and has inflated it to such levels that you can’t think straight.

So you stop. Take a breath. Pray to your guardian angel to lend a hand.

Try not to get on the phone and chew out some unsuspecting telemarketer.

Years ago, I was in Yosemite National Park, and was challenged to walk up a very steep rock (shaped like a giant mound, but high enough to make me nervous). I’m not a fan of heights. I can tell myself everything’s okay, but I still feel my heart racing and my stomach talking to me. But I trudged on, because another person volunteered to hold on…and gave me some advice. He suggested I just stand still and feel all the fear and let it wrap around me, then take another step, and another. I did so.

I confess it did help, though I won’t say I’m not scared of heights anymore. Still, sometimes I call upon that advice when other, more threatening fears appear on the horizon.

Like waiting on lab test results. Or wondering if I made a wrong turn when mapping out my life.

Maybe some day I won’t be afraid. But for now, I’m going to cut myself some slack and hope others do the same for themselves. Emotions are supposed to be felt. Even fear is telling us something.

It reminds us we are alive. And no matter what our age, we’re still very young spirits.

“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by each experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face.”

Eleanor Roosevelt

Losing our fear of the dark.

08/24/2015 / Laura

Why are we still afraid of the dark?

Not the dark closet in our bedrooms where the monsters of childhood hide. Not the darkness outside when you think you just heard footsteps by the gate and you can’t see your hand in front of your face.

I’m talking about the dark or “shadow” places of our souls…where our doubts and worries and resentments and unfilled dreams live.

Surely all that is part of us is good, or at least worthy of inspection. We know we can’t be Happy Howard or Smiling Susie all the time. And as boomers and beyond, we are plenty aware that while we would like to think we’ve worked on all our “issues”, there’s still a whole file cabinet filled with squirming toads in the back of our minds.

So why are we so scared to admit it even exists?

Are the shadow parts of ourselves something we should fear and avoid, or embrace as an invitation to live a full life? To be fully human, and know that light always follows darkness?

Writer, professor and Episcopal priest Barbara Brown Taylor explores this quandary in “Learning to Walk in the Dark.” She says:

“If you are my age, you are losing a lot more things than you once did—not just your keys and your vision, but also your landmarks, but also your sense of sense. You are going to a lot more funerals than before. When you read your class notes in the alumni news, they are shorter and near the top all the time. You know full well where this is heading, but you also know you are not ready yet. So how are you supposed to get ready? …. It is time for a walk in the dark.”

“You have knocked on doors that have not been opened. You have asked for bread and been given a stone. The job that once defined you has lost its meaning; relationships that once sustained you have changed or come to their natural ends. It is time to reinvent everything…it may be time for a walk in the dark.”

Everyone’s “walk” will be unique to what they need to explore, resolve, or even admit to. Is it a passion you let go of?

A love that got away?

A resentment that past abuse or mistreatment robbed you of what you could have been?

The death of a beloved friend or relative?

Or fears about taking the next big step in a relationship or career, or a major change of life?

Taylor talks about how she really does enjoy being outside in the dark. I can relate. We forget how the night can welcome us. How uplifting it can be to study the stars, see a comet grace the sky, or hear an owl’s call under a full moon. As children we loved playing in the dark, that’s when games really took on magic. And when ice cream tasted better. It felt friendly and safe.

Even now, if you haven’t in a long time, try sitting outside in the dark some evening. Feel the breeze. Watch the clouds if there’s enough moonlight. Listen to what the night is saying. Maybe it’s all trying to tell us that we’ll always face times when walking through a dark forest is the only way to get to our destination.

And the only difference between the lovely woods and that dark forest is lack of light…not a new evil presence. So instead of immediately turning on the flashlight, what if we just trust our senses to get through the dark patch, knowing it might get easier each time we did?

In other words, if we let our eyes adjust to the dark…who knows what we might see?

“What makes night within us may leave stars.”

Victor Hugo

Is fear stopping you?

03/12/2015 / Laura

In the movie “Defending Your Life,” Albert Brooks has to face the facts: during his life, he has let fears of rejection and failure get in his way of realizing some very precious dreams. Who couldn’t relate to moments like that…in the cafeteria in junior high, at the front door saying goodnight to a date, waiting for a job interview, etc., etc.

Fear’s a weird thing. In some ways, it’s good because it keeps us alive. It can be a great alarm when we are considering doing something stupid or reckless. It can let us know when things don’t quite feel right. It can warn us that a stranger is best kept at a distance.

But it also can ruin everything.

You want to try the zip line, but you’re scared.

He wants to call her, but he fears she’ll laugh and hang up.

She wants to ask her for a raise, but she’s scared her boss will find a reason to let her go instead.

And maybe the biggest one of all: we fear we will die before we realize our dreams.

It’s amazing how competent we can feel in several areas, yet occasionally, our fears reduce us to quaking masses of jelly. Scientists say it’s when our brain detects the potential for pain. Or when we confront something we never expected. Our bodies get ready to flee. Our heart can race, we feel nauseous, we can’t breathe. In extreme cases, fear can invoke a panic attack or even worse.

Everyone has his or her own way of dealing with fear. Controlling your breathing. Being self-aware and talking yourself down. Getting control of your mind.

Easier said than done sometimes. But what about the nagging, slow simmering kind of fear? The one that sets up camp in your brain and whispers how you are too old to change careers. Too gray-haired to learn kayaking. Too mature to get out on the dance floor.

I think those fears are more insidious, and ultimately, more damaging than anything. They nibble away at our spirit like starving field mice. They’re the “what if” fears….what if I look stupid? What if they all laugh? What if I write a novel and nobody reads it? What if I fail?

What if I really can’t do it after all?

Fair enough…but what if you can?

I’ve had occasions in my life where I’ve feared that I would never achieve something that mattered to me…and then suddenly been overcome with fear that I actually would reach my goal. Talk about feeling nuts.

I think as I get older, I’m fairly well acquainted with what I fear…and what will trigger it. That gives me a slight edge as I can try and prepare my mind before I tackle the challenge. But even better, I think aging itself takes away some of our fears…because we simply don’t care that much about things that truly can’t hurt us.

So what if one person laughs when you get out there and boogie…they don’t know how much fun you’re having.

So what if you write your life story and it doesn’t sell…you wrote it for yourself anyway.

So what if none of the young executives think you really understand the latest technology….you have the edge in experience, wisdom, and tried-and-true business strategy.

I confess to having some irrational fears (heights and spiders). I confess that I’m not crazy about speaking in public. And I do listen to my inner protector if I’m somewhere unfamiliar and a warning bell goes off.

But I’m trying my best to take the air out of the fears that I think have no business stopping me from enjoying life. I’m not afraid of the white hairs that are showing up. Or the fact that I can’t stay up as late as I used to.

And I’m definitely not afraid of my wrinkles!

Go see “The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”…lots of nice wisdom about overcoming fears and embracing who we boomers and beyond really are:

Fearless!