The Gift of Fear - The Way of Phi in Practice -

Being scared, even if uncomfortable, means that we care

Dear friend,

Fear is often seen as something undesirable. Perhaps even as an indication that something is wrong. That's how I felt about fear for a very long time.

Merriam Webster defines fear as "an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger".

Cambridge defines it as "an unpleasant emotion or thought that you have when you are frightened or worried by something dangerous, painful, or bad that is happening or might happen"

And Collins have the following to say:

"Fear is the unpleasant feeling you have when you think that you are in danger."

It also says this:

"A fear is a thought that something unpleasant might happen or might have happened."

So, it's built into our understanding of fear that it is unpleasant and probably involves impending danger.

And sure, danger can instill fear.

But I would like to make a case for that there is more to fear than this.

The gift of fear

When we are scared we are usually present. This is because raises our attention. It wakes us up. It brings us – sometimes very abruptly – into the moment.

When we feel fear, it is also because we care. I would argue that the opposite of fear is indifference or complacency. Not bravery, but more about that later.

Also, fear is an invitation to see things more clearly. Like switching on very strong lamps. Suddenly things that previously escaped our attention stand out.

Old fear

Then there is old fear. Traumas. Fear that couldn't be felt when it arose and therefore was pushed down, often compounded over the years. As we never processed it, it is still in there somewhere in our unconscious. And thence it keeps influencing us, shaping our choices, sometimes in ways that we aren't even aware of.

Advertisement seems to be using this a lot. Often playing at our fear of missing out (FoMo), whether it is clothed in a sense of urgency or lack, deliberately crafted to bypass our rational thinking and act from "instinct". This instinct is typically connected to our deep fear of being ostracised.

The need to belong is very deep and probably goes back to our tribal roots. Even in our highly individualised society where we are repeatedly lead to believe that enough money will shield us from pretty much everything, there is a deeper need that tells us in no uncertain terms:

'Not being part of the group means death.'

While this might not be literally true to a lot of people these days, once it was, and on an emotional level it still is.

As the movie About a Boy tells us, quoting John Donne:

'No man is an island.'

And that holds true for women as well. Perhaps even more so, since women are biologically wired for physically connecting with their offspring. And besides, as another saying goes:

'It takes a village to raise a child.'

Bravery

Bravery, it is said, is to feel the fear and still do what you set out to do. Not to not feel the fear in the first place – for if you do not feel fear, do you really need to be brave to do whatever it is that you are doing?

For many years, decades even, my strategy whenever I was scared of something, was to do it. Just do it. A seemingly empowering strategy one would think, but also a very dangerous one. Because if we are scared of an actual danger, e.g. falling in front of the incoming train, it's definitely not advisable to "just do it". Rather, we should take a step back.

Another problem with this "just do it" strategy has been that in a way I have been looking for scarier and scarier things to overcome. So I have thrown myself out of an airplane with a parachute. Or jumped off a high bridge with a bungee cord. Or stood on big stages in front of hundreds of people, even in front of thousands of people. But I didn't really feel my fear. In fact, more often than not, it didn't really do anything for me. Almost like I was ticking off a box. Ok, now I've done that – what's next?

More recently, I have started feeling more of my fear, and then it became clearer that my former strategy in effect meant that I didn't have to feel the fear, as I was doing instead of feeling. In a sense, I think that I was doing it, to avoid feeling it. So I shifted into another approach, viz. to feel the fear (along with all the other emotions).

Feeling fear is a visceral experience. It is sensational in the sense that there are physically felt sensations. The heart rate could increase. I might feel cold. The breathing often changes. Etc. In other words, it is a full on experience. And the stronger the emotion, the more intensely it presents itself.

Nowadays, I try to feel the emotion as honestly as I can, and then I make an informed decision about whether I want to do whatever it is that I am considering and feeling fearful about or not.

Jumping in front of incoming trains, for example, is not something that I want to do. Nor is falling from great heights. So I just sit with the fear. Breathing through it. And it usually passes after a few seconds up to a minute or two. (Supposedly, if we feel an emotion fully, it only stays for a maximum of 90 seconds.) Then again, it might be something that I do want to do.

Like the other day, as I was cycling along, I saw three elderly women with their dogs, and I got the idea to say hello to them. I didn't know them, so it was more like a fun, and somewhat scary, thing. I'm not sure exactly why it felt scary, but it did. This was while I was pondering what to write in this newsletter, so I deliberated quickly, and decided that this was something that I wanted to do, so I loudly said "hello" and waved, to which all three of the women responded in equal measure. And then it was over.

This experience gave me a sense of accomplishment. Not because this was a huge thing (I've done FAR scarier things, believe me), but because I allowed myself to feel the fear, made a decision about what I wanted, overcame the fear, and did it. All in a couple of seconds. It can be as easy as that.

And that is my take on bravery. Not to soldier through mindlessly, emotionlessly no matter what. But to stop and feel what is going on, and then, if you honestly want to do something, you do it. And – if you don't want to do it, you don't do it. Sometimes the latter can require even more courage, especially in a culture that is so heavily steeped in that courage and bravery is about killing dragons, whether literarily or proverbially.

Going from fear to excitement

Many years ago, as I was walking through Stockholm carrying a lot of things, including a microphone stand (as you do), I met the Swedish musician Thomas diLeva. Since we were going in the same direction, and I was curious to talk to him, I asked him if he could help me out by carrying said stand, which he did. So, we got talking and I asked him whether he would still get nervous when he was about to go on stage. To this he replied "No, I get excited." I have reflected over this quite a few times since, and have found that to be true for me as well. I rarely get nervous about doing things (occasionally it still happens for a brief moment), however, when I set out to do something that I care about, I do feel a sense of excitement. And then I know that this is something that I care about. And thus, it is something worth doing.

Fear that doesn't paralyse can transform into excitement

To learn more about yourself, including your emotions, get your very own copy of my book The Way of Phi – available in Swedish as Vägen till Phi. And if you are ready to go deeper, click here to schedule an exploration call with yours truly.

With gratitude,

Christopher