Human beings are born with only two innate fears: the fear of falling and the fear of loud noise. All the other fears are conditioned into us.
Some fears we can pinpoint to an actual event, like having a fear of dogs because we remember being bitten when we were 7 years old. Other fears seem to be unexplained as we can’t recall any specific event we experienced or witnessed to cause it.
I remember that, as a child, I would crawl through playground tunnels for fun, or I would squeeze my way through a trapdoor to help my dad fix some wiring under the house. I felt no fear, and in fact, it was fun and a bit of an adventure. And yet today, my heart will start racing and I find it difficult to breathe just at the thought of being squeezed into a small space. Even watching some silly scene on TV where someone is trapped in a small space can trigger an anxious feeling as if I’m the one who is trapped. I know it’s not real and yet I still have a physical reaction! I have to switch channels, leave the room, or just close my eyes until I know the scene is over.
I have absolutely no idea of where this claustrophobic feeling came from. And you know what? It doesn’t matter.
What matters is that I am aware of it and I do the best I can to not let it stop me from getting on with my life.
OK… I might miss out on a TV scene, but I don’t really place much value on that. But, when it really counts, I find a way through it.
I recently experienced a bout of vertigo. The specialist found that I had a slightly swollen nerve in one ear and that was the likely cause of the vertigo. The problem would fix itself, but just in case, he sent me for an MRI.
Now, if you’ve never seen an MRI machine, the part that x-rays your brain looks like a tube. You lay down, you are manoeuvred into the tube and you have to lay there for about 15 minutes whist the machine takes heaps of pictures of your brain.
Sounds fine.
Well, it wasn’t. Not at first.
I’m a curious person and like to see what’s going on. So, with my first attempt at the MRI I went in with my eyes open. The further into the tube I went, the more out of control my brain went. I can’t even say what my thoughts were, just that I had to get out. When Ben, the technician, asked me if everything was okay, my response was “No. Get me out!” Out I rolled. Embarrassed. Panicked. Breathing heavily. Ben assured me that this was a common response.
I thought about not having the MRI but I came to the conclusion that not having it done would mean that I wouldn’t know for sure if there was a serious problem that caused the vertigo. At that moment, the discomfort of not knowing if there was a serious issue outweighed my fear of small spaces. I had to have the MRI. Once I made that decision, I focussed on what I could do to get myself through the experience at hand. So, I chose to close my eyes, do meditative breathing and visualised myself laying on a beautiful beach.
It worked. In fact, I found myself very relaxed throughout the process.
Now, for some of you, this might seem a trivial example of a fear, something that should be overcome or managed easily. For others, you may well recognise the debilitating effects a fear can have. It doesn’t have to make sense. The truth is, most fears are not based on sense.
Even taking the example of having a fear of dogs because you were once bitten – it isn’t logical. You know that just because one dog bit you, it doesn’t mean every other dog will bite you. But you still can’t help but cross the street when someone is in front of you walking their dog.
So, how do we deal with fear? Notice I don’t use the words ‘overcome fear’; I say ‘deal with fear.’
The number one thing you can do is identify what that fear is. Once you know it, you can find ways to deal with it.
Do you have a fear of failure or of success? What about fear of rejection, being judged, not being in control or fear of being alone? What about fear of the unknown?
For many years I had the desire to live in Peru. I had travelled there many times and knew that one day I would stay there for an extended period of time. I wanted to live and work there, not just be a traveller. But I didn’t do anything about it. I remained in my comfort zone and just dreamed about that ‘one day…’
Then my mother passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. That was my wake-up call.
Working through the grief process, I came to the realisation that life is short, tomorrow is not guaranteed, and if there are things I want to do, then I better just do them.
At that moment I decided that the fear of missing out on my dream was far greater than anything else I might be afraid of. I thought about how I’d feel one day, laying on my death bed. Would I regret not making the trip? You bet.
I can assure you, I experienced fear. It was fear of the unknown. I was going somewhere where I didn’t know anyone, I didn’t have a place to live, I didn’t have a job and I only had a limited understanding of the language.
I was afraid and I booked my flights. I was afraid and I packed my bags. I was afraid and I waved good-bye to my family and friends.
Once I arrived in Peru, the place where I thought my fears were living, I couldn’t find them. They weren’t there. They were just in my head. I had arrived on the other side of my fears.
Fear had me anticipating ending up lonely, homeless and penniless. But that didn’t happen. Once I saw past my fears – on the other side of my fears – I found a wonderful experience. I had the best time, found a job, made wonderful friends and got to live in the beautiful Andes.
I had felt afraid but did it anyway.
I just did it afraid.
