The Fear Factor
A new sport, a new job, or a new city; somewhere in your 20s, you stopped trying new things that you’d be bad at or are afraid of. Did you know that babies are not born with the conceptual complexities of fear? Their reflexes are generally attuned to loud nosies. So most children grow and adopt their fears through social inference. When a child falls, their instincts are to get back up and try again. Parents inadvertently pass their own fears onto the toddler, and alarm them through their loud gasps. This was scary?-!
Over time, we learned the art of controlling the triggers to our fears. The older we grow, the more risk averse we become. Masters of predictability. I don’t intend to delve into whether that’s justified, needed, valid or appropriate. Of course, some things are circumstantial. For the sake of this discussion, I’m mainly referring to risk within reason.
I recently realized how much I had unintentionally bound my experiences. I believe it’s stemmed from my lack of embrace for the beginners’ fear. Four years ago, I was bionic woman for almost five months and could barely shower by myself. When I took up jiu jitsu early in my twenties, I was competitive, excited, and dedicated. But during one of my rolls, I dislocated my right elbow entirely. It was my first time ever getting seriously injured and it subconsciously stuck. Since the incident, I quietly developed an aversion to risky things. Specifically related to my last regrettable, manifested fear: getting injured.
After moving to Colorado last year, I decided to do as the locals do and take up skiing. Subjecting myself to peer pressure, voluntarily and blithely. Exposure therapy, I thought. On bunny hills, it was manageable fear. Eventually, I reached the point where I needed to be daring to progress. Here come the blues. From the lift view, I would think, this doesn’t look too bad… and then stare down the drop off in paralyzing panic. I would replay the experience of getting injured, seldom remembering the exhilaration of feeling wickedly alive. Learning skiing has been a wonderful reminder of the paradoxical beauty of feeling your heart pumping through your chest. We live in a world flooded with vivid imagery of unimaginable feats, readily available on the screens at our fingertips, from the comfort of our couch. Still experiencing the dopamine hit without repayment. Because of that, we lack the privilege of truly earning the mental fortitude and emotional growth that the experience would otherwise enforce and require.
I’ve found myself falling in love with being a beginner all over again. Amidst some feelings of embarrassment, it was oddly refreshing to only fathom thinking “PIZZAAA” for twenty minutes when trying to make it down a slope. Or to focus on zig zags across a mountain with all your might, at the chance you could save yourself from tumbling your way down. Best of all, still finding moments in between the face plants to really appreciate the miraculous journey and enjoy the surroundings. Feeling sore in areas you forgot existed as you walk to the car, but an undeniable sense of integrity - I was scared, and I tried scared, and experienced the (metaphorically and painfully literally) breathtaking alpine views.
Chase an experience akin to that. Be daring. Be bold. However that looks like to you. Cherish the unequivocal quietness that arises amidst the forest of internal chaos. Odds are you will find yourself empowered by fear and inspired by failure.
