Making Friends With Fear

“When fear enters my bones and speaks to my heart,?I have learned to hear its voice as an invitation?to ignite care and kindness into my being. To bring the other members of my inner council into life - strength, courage, gentleness, and truth -and allow them all to hold me to carry me onwards in the way fear knew was needed, but couldn’t do alone.”

Poem by Brigit Anna McNeill?

Dear Ones:

I don’t know about you, but I find myself afraid more often than not these days.?

It feels like a really vulnerable statement to share - me, a grown adult with years of therapy, a near finished graduate degree in Psychology, and multiple credentials in mental wellness under my belt, spends much of my time afraid? But it’s true! Fear seems to be underneath many of the ruminations that occupy me these days, from the most mundane (will I look foolish in front of my peers?) to the more existential (when will [insert least favorite global conflict here] end and peace return to the region?).?

Buddhist teachings and modern psychological research both affirm that none of this is new. In fact, they hold that fear is at the root of much of the suffering and negative emotional tone in our lives. Sounds overly simplistic, I know - like that terrible Patrick Swayze character in “Donnie Darko” who preached that all the world is a choice between “love and fear”. Niche reference? Too niche? Anyway, hear me out: Buddhism teaches that our core fear is of our own mortality - that we will leave this world without accomplishing “it”. While classically “it” is often described as life purpose or meaning or impact, I think “it” can be a much more tactical concept for many of us. Owning a home. Finally achieving work-life harmony. Feeling satisfied.

If you take a moment, you’ll know what “it” is for you right now. Have you found it? That thing that if you could only accomplish or attain, you’d be able to ease up on the gas pedal of your life and take a breather for once? Yeah, that thing.

Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but for many of us it’s not going to happen. And when I say “it” here I don’t mean you won’t accomplish what you strive for. Rather, I mean that the act of accomplishing that goal will likely have minimal impact on your desire for more. We’re just not wired to take a breather when we reach a goal. The psychiatrist and author Gabor Maté likens this to the effects of an opiate like heroin -? once we hit the high of one peak, we’re constantly looking for the next higher one. It’s part of our human nature. That’s why this striving is often connected with the metaphor of a hungry ghost - you consume what you desire but never feel full or satiated. Maybe you own a home, but now you need a vacation home too. You ran a marathon, and now that triathlon is taunting you. This salary was more than you needed last year, but now it feels like it isn’t enough for you to live the life you deserve. Sound familiar?

It’s this persistent fear of not reaching these ever changing goals before time on the cosmic clock runs out - this relentless drive towards doing more - that is having an outsized impact on our collective psyches. Neuroscience concurs with Buddhism on this topic as more and more research is demonstrating that fear is not relegated to the amygdala as was previously thought, but rather it’s woven throughout our brains like tripwire that goes off when we experience anything that threatens our ability to attain “it”. Not to over simplify the science, but our brain is wired to be afraid more often than not. This fear is designed to keep us alive.

I don’t know about you, but my fear feels like a car alarm that needs calibration. I appreciate all it has done for me, but perhaps it doesn’t need to wake up the entire neighborhood when a strong breeze blows by. Someone breaking into my car? Absolutely ring them bells! But I find there to be a cost in constantly living in a state of alarm and fear.??

My answer to this - and it is most certainly a work in progress - is to try and befriend my fear. And like a good friend, I am starting to have an open and honest conversation with my fear. I honor the contribution it has made to my life, keeping me safe for more than 40 years. I affirm that I’m not going to exile it to the far reaches of my psyche never to be allowed in again. I inform my fear of the cost it has had on my well-being, how it keeps me distanced from hope and joy and always striving for more. I invite fear to co-create a relationship with me that feels mutually beneficial, where it has a place on my “inner council” but perhaps is not leading the meetings.?

The fact is the cosmic clock is ticking and, as Mary Oliver said, we only have “one wild and precious life”. But what might that life be like if we befriended our fear?