Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. . . You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”
What is the thing I think I cannot do? It was ages ago when I first came across this quote. I was still teaching and I thought it might mean teaching again in the same capacity as years past. The shipped has sailed on that option. I am not in the classroom, but I still can teach in other ways.
A multitude of things exist that I think I cannot do. It used to be bike rides. I have enjoyed some long bike rides for the past few years. I returned to a favorite bluff that proved too much for me one day and hiked it to prove to myself I could do it. Taking a vacation by myself is another example. I planned a trip to Alabama in February of last year. It was a glorious experience in discovery and independence.
If I did nothing when faced with things I think I cannot do and stayed in fear, then I would be immobilized. Doing nothing is no way to live.
All of my choices matter so much more now. Treatment choices have results. They always have, but bumpier roads have an effect on how I interpret those results. Some things can’t be undone as easily as choices and decisions from my younger years. Like a deer frozen in the headlights, fear keeps me from moving and making decisions.
Everyone must get past fear. When I don’t care about consequences, I believe that I just may be able to do everything I want in terms of living. I feel much more like the old me. Over the past year, I’ve done things I didn’t know I had in me. I spearheaded a yearlong fundraiser for metastatic breast cancer research. It has renewed my spirits and stoked a fire within me. I put some plans into motion at the beginning of this year because I moved past fear. I planned a vacation to Sedona with a good friend. We booked the trip. COVID-19 kept us home as it did for many.
Engaging fear is like golfing in a lightning storm. No one wants to get struck by lightning. Lightning destroys, starts fires, and kills. All these are scary things. But not golfing is also frightening when it’s the only path to a better everything. Golfing in a storm metaphorically may be the only choice.
My odds of being hit by lightning are 1 in 700,000. I had a 1 in 8 chance of getting breast cancer. Odds aside, I engage with my fears.
Our fears are not there to scare us. They show us what is important.
Teaching is important to me and I will teach through my writing and my actions. We all teach one another through our actions. Blogging allows me to use my voice. It is important to me to ask scary questions and advocate for myself at oncology appointments because knowledge is better than not knowing. I need to understand as much as I can.
Engaging fear makes fear less fearful. I never thought I would connect engaging fear with negating fear. I resolve to move forward one fear at a time. Doing this is a true testament to strength, courage, and confidence.
How does the fear engaging process work? Associated thoughts a person has about a fear need to change with the actions caused by them. Feelings then change as a result. For example, I am somewhat afraid of severe weather. Tornado warnings as a child in the middle of the night involved uncomfortable basement conditions, flashlights when the electricity went out, and the battery powered radio. There were no weather radios, nor had the age of technology hit where you could track storms on your own and know if a bad storm was in your path and its approximate time of arrival. There were no cell phones or constant internet access. We didn’t even have a telephone in the basement. Yet, there was a sound rule: If the siren was heard or the TV had the tornado warning symbol, down went the family into the basement. It was a good rule.
Nowadays I am on my own. My thoughts associated with severe weather have changed, and therefore so have my actions. I have a weather radio. It is programmed to sound the alarm for tornado warnings. Storms wake me up anyway. There have been numerous occasions where I have trekked downstairs with my iPad and iPhone (along with shoes, jacket, car keys, etc.) in hand to watch TV for a bit when the light on the weather radio hasn’t flashed because that’s what I needed to do to feel safe. There’s a defining distinction – I felt safer rather than fearful.
Facing a fear always makes the fear lose power. I have a good plan for severe weather. The threat of a destructive storm or tornado is real and out of my control. My response to the danger is within my control. I am pretty calm about these types of storms now and luckily have never been in anything so devastating as to be a major life event.
My anxieties, on the other hand, have damaged me over the years. Anxiety is all about perceived danger. Perceived, not real. The worry I’ve created internally and externally about losing aspects of my life due to potential turns in my health has not been healthy. It doesn’t resonate with my usual mindset. The stress response that goes with anxiety is unwelcome. Changing the associated thoughts and actions I have toward these anxieties is key. I do much better when I outwardly talk back to my fears and anxieties and tell them to GO AWAY, followed by a sentence of what I AM going to do rather than what the fear or anxiety is going to do.
Another good example of engaging fear is centered on the vacation I had planned to Sedona. Due to COVID-19, the trip was quickly unbooked. I have a big underlying health condition. I engaged with my fear. I made pro and con lists. My friend who was going with me works in health care. We talked through the situation over a pizza and decided together we couldn’t do it. The whole thing was canceled right then and there. Sad? Yes. But I felt an overwhelming wave of relief because it was the right decision. By the next weekend, recommendations were being made not to travel anywhere. I am unbelievably happy that I wrestled with my feelings and did what I knew I had to do to stay safe.
I have made enormous strides in engaging fear. I still have fears. I think I always will because I plan to keep growing and new unknowns will continue to surface. I am up against some scary unknowns these days. I feel like I’ve lost. Lost the ability to choose. Lost control. Lost my voice. Lost some trust. Lost again. Losses and potential losses increase my fears. I’ve been engaging with fear multiple times daily. Life is giving me more ways to lose. I feel, I engage, and I try to move through it. I’m having a hard time. I am waiting for the fears I’m feeling to be negated. I am waiting for them to feel less powerful.
Well, I’m finishing this post in a different place than I planned. The hope I usually have is hiding. I’m golfing in that lightning storm and I don’t like it. I am wet, cold, and a bad golfer. But I’ll hold fiercely to my 9-iron and I’m prepared to whack anyone with it who gets in my way. Eleanor Roosevelt may not have thought very highly of this behavior. Oh, well. Engaging fear isn’t meant to be pretty.