Facing Fear

So much is written in popular psychology regarding fear. It can be obsession-invoking, completely illogical and downright debilitating. In fact some circles consider fear to be the primary motivator behind our decision making process. Right around the time I posted my previous post, I came to realize the role that “fear” was playing in my writing process.

As with all art created for the purpose of sharing with others, there’s a certain trepidation around “putting yourself out there.” As the antagonist of the animated feature “Ratatouille” articulates clearly, it’s much easier to be a critic than to bear the potential ridicule of producing anything meant to be consumed by others. The more personally attached you feel to what you’re creating, the greater your potential for experiencing some apprehension. That is not to say that everyone engaged in creating something experiences this, but I believe it is extremely common in anyone’s “first” experience. Painting the first painting that is commissioned or sharing a poem in a public forum for the first time are good examples of what I mean by this.

Just to make this a trifecta, there’s even one more challenge embedded in my circumstances. In addition to being my first book and something I feel deeply about, in many ways I’m going against the grain. As they say, it’s easy when you’re “preaching to the choir” but understandably different when you’re challenging long-held beliefs. Perhaps I even deserve an added bonus for writing on the topic of something as personal and socially taboo as spirituality and religion.

I started keeping this blog primarily to share my experience of being a writer, but I also had a number of ulterior motives. For one, it was the lowest barrier to entry of the “putting myself out there” situation. It’s one thing to tell your friends and close associates that you’re going to write a book, but another to share the story of the process with the world (even if the only people reading it are your close friends and associates!) There’s also the added writing practice the blog provides along with repeated experiences of “publishing” your work.

The most significant motive of my blog agenda however was to drive a “no turning back” stake into the ground of my writing expedition. I know myself well enough that I’d rather face the fear of publishing a book that might not be the culmination of my best writing effort than to end this blog with an “I give up” entry. Nor am I willing to just let this blog die without a suitable closing. As any reader of this blog, you represent a motivational force in this marathon… and for that I thank you.

Forcing yourself to deal with fear may be effective, but it’s not really a strategy per se. In many ways, fear is like pain. It is uncomfortable, designed to capture your attention, sometimes chronic and often nagging. Pain can actually be managed though, in a number of ways. In meditation, devotees often experience pain and discomfort when attempting to sit for extended periods. One method taught in some philosophies is not to resist the pain, but to focus on it totally. Don’t wish it away, don’t try to alleviate it… simply observe it as a phenomenon. The miracle for those who are able to develop this kind of focus (and tolerance) is that the pain eventually just goes away.

My point in all this is that fear can also be managed, probably with a lot less discomfort. There’s the rationalizing and dissecting that can help us uncover why we’re afraid of something, but that simply provides us with an explanation. The more important step is to face the fear as a phenomenon like pain and see what happens when you just let it be there. (Please don’t try this at home if you’re prone to panic attacks.) Ultimately we typically find that after a slightly elevated heart rate and way too many brain cycles spent on worrying, the entire experience wasn’t nearly as bad as we made it out to be in our minds.

Those rare individuals that walk among us with a complete mastery of fear experience the world in a much different way. Everything becomes an opportunity… and isn’t that what life ultimately is for all of us?