Flipping the fear switch to OFF
I do this thing, and I wondered if anyone else does this thing, or if it would be useful to you to consider it for your own purposes.
It started a few years ago when I was sitting here one summer, sweltering in the Arizona heat, and I happened to read an article about backpacking in Iceland. And as you can imagine, my brain latched onto that idea right away–Iceland Iceland Iceland!–and wouldn’t get over it. I’m HOT!
And for better or worse, I have this husband that when I send him an e-mail saying something like, “Want to go backpacking in Iceland?” he immediately writes back, “Sure,” and then what am I supposed to do?
But there were a few problems. I’d never flown across an ocean before, never been out of the country except a few toe-steps into Mexico and Canada, the trip would involve small inland planes and small boats on choppy Arctic waters–lots of things to be nervous about. Plus it was just so foreign, you know? Whom did I know except the person who’d written that article who had ever been to Iceland?
But sometimes you just get sick of your same old garbage. That garbage that tells you to be afraid of anything new, anything different, anything out of your control.
So I decided to do this experiment. I told myself that for the next six weeks or so–the time leading up to the trip, and then the duration of the trip itself–I was just going to suspend all fear. Not forever, but just for six weeks. I could worry about all of it and freak out if I needed to once I was safely back home. But until then, no matter what, I just wasn’t going to worry. Not about the money, or the risk, or all the hundreds of unknowns.
It was the first time I’d ever done something like that, and much to my shock it worked 100%. Even when we were trapped in our tent with an Arctic gale nearly snapping the tent poles in two, which would have meant certain hypothermia because there was no shelter for miles and miles, and no humans anywhere near to help us–even then, not to mention when I rode in that small boat in choppy waters, or in that small plane through choppy air–none of it scared me one bit. Because there was a time for that, and it wasn’t for another few weeks when we got home.
Ever since that trip, I’ve used the experience as my touchstone for further adventure. Any time I’m considering something that would normally scare the pee out of me–like this upcoming backpacking trip where grizzlies have been known to roam (let’s not talk about it)–there comes a point when I have to make that decision again: Do I want to be afraid, or just flip the switch to off for a while and save all my fear and worries for when I get back home?
Today I flipped the switch. Because I get bored with my usual concerns. I’m so used to the tape that plays in my head, and sometimes I just want to go play outdoors and not listen to it anymore.
So here’s my question: Does anyone else do this with things in your lives? Do you sometimes decide to just suspend fear and worry and promise you’ll get back to them later? I’d love to hear about your own experiments with shutting the fear switch off.
This word ‘fear’, what does it mean?
It’s something created by lesser mortals than you, P. Don’t concern yourself.
No, I have never done this but now that you have told me about it, I am soooo going to give it a try. It could change my life:-)
A good strategy for those of us who tend to worry a bit. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Thanks
Great, Franki! We’re all about the life experiments here. Please report back when you’ve tried it!
I’m sorry to say I’m not a big risk taker. I like my comfort zone, though I do get envious of those who frequently (or even not so frequently) step outside theirs and greet new adventures head-on. You inspire me, Robin! I truly hope I will have the nerve to flip off the switch once my babies are no longer babies. First, though, I guess I’ve got to stop making excuses, like “I have babies!” (;
Yeah, I definitely understand that, Kelley. Of course, some would say that having babies in the first place is taking a risk! Some of us can only handle puppies . . .
Because I …deal with (that sounds weird, but I wanted to use a word that wasn’t “suffer” or “victim of” and that’s what I came up with) sort of grand mal anxiety and panic attacks, I sometimes can’t find the switch that turns it all off, but I kind of have a… mask? Made out of ice?
Okay, writing this makes it sound all dysfunctional and stuff. But when I have to, I can just sort of fit this imaginary ice onto my usual seething and flailing mental self, and become calm. I haven’t managed to turn off the physical manifestations of panic, so you might see that my clothes are wringing wet and my hands are cold, but I’m able to function until I can set the ice aside.
I think what you’ve got going on is called “bravery.”
Tanita, thanks so much for sharing that. I’m so sorry you have to deal with that, but how fascinating that you’ve learned to cope with it that way. I love the image of a mask made out of ice–that’s really amazing. You’re a toughy–that’s all I have to say! Bravery takes a lot of forms, and yours is one of them.
Tanita, I too deal with grand mal panic attacks, so I totally get what you mean…I can’t find the off switch either. But when you learn to do stuff in spite of that, and not let your idiotic idiosyncratic brain chemistry (because that’s really all it is, on the molecular level) stop you from living your life…yeah, I might be shaking, crying, gasping for breath and drenched in cold sweat, but doing whatever it is that I was scared of, living in spite of it, that’s the best feeling in the universe. I’d say it makes the victory all the sweeter.
Idiotic idiosyncratic brain chemistry. I just realized how horrible that sounds and I meant no offense to anyone.
Elizabeth, I love this. Thank you–and Tanita–so much for sharing. It’s important to know what goes on in other people’s minds, and I always appreciate hearing how you and others succeed in spite of whatever complications life has thrown at you.
And I’m sure no one took offense. It was just excellent alliteration.
Exactly. It IS awesome alliteration!
Oh mercy.
I have a very, very distinct memory of standing at a false summit just 200 feet or so from the top of a peak I’d been happily climbing ALL DAY. And I froze. I just totally froze up. And my husband, who I’m pretty sure was my boyfriend at the time, waited and waited and I think thought I was going to get blown off the face of the mountain, and then said, do you want to go down? We’ll just go down. And I swallowed and swore at him and went up. Fast. Before I had time to throw up. I did not turn the fear switch to off but I just pushed through it, the way dogs jump those invisible fences. Y’know? And that has been my guiding light ever since. For like 19 years. I just push through my own panic because I really want to get the top, sign my name in the register and have a granola bar.
I’m not so sure I want to backpack in Antartica, though. You are REALLY brave, Robin…
Hi, Liz! Long time! Thanks so much for that great story–you’re right, it’s the other side of the fear switch. Instead of turning the switch off, you say [blank] it and keep on going despite the fear.
Which sounds like what Tanita and Elizabeth do, too–is that right you two?
Thanks so much to all of you for these stories. I really enjoy knowing how life is for other people!
(And Liz, it was only Iceland, not Antarctica. Now THAT would have been burly.)
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Hey Robin…. Seriously. Iceland is intense enough. Plus you dehydrate your own food. I buy mine already dehydrated. One time I had roomates who made their own beef jerky in our oven by hanging the little strips of meat over the rack for like two days. I think it clinched vegetarianism for me…
(How funny that my antispam word is ikea — land of creature comforts, no fear switch required…)
I’m experiencing a lot of those little fear moments lately in yoga, of all things. I try to push through it, but the reality of maybe banging my head on the concrete floor usually pushes back harder.
Hmm.
Make sure you take your bear spray when you hike among grizzlies! A cousin of the husb’s was like, “Bear spray? So you spray the horses with it?” like it was bug spray or something!
I get through a lot of things by turning off the fear for a little while. It catches up with me eventually, but it’s also helped me do a lot of things I wasn’t sure I could do, like drive in LA. Sometimes I just have to not think too much about what I’m doing, and then I’m fine.
Yikes, Adrienne–driving in LA? I’d need a whole fear transplant to do that. You’re so brave! Or really great at putting your mind elsewhere.
Katie, is it the fear of a headstand? Or something else? I’m really curious. And that bit about the bear spray–HA!
Liz, glad to know that someone else turned to vegetarianism after just one too-vivid visual image. Some of us just can’t ever erase that image from our brains. Plus veggies are really great, so life is good.