To Be Fear Facing

Sometime around mid-April, at the height of Portland's spring gloom and in search of an indoor pastime that would offer some energy to counter the dreary rain, I went to my very first indoor rock-climbing class. I had never tried climbing before but it seems to be a popular activity amongst Portland-ers, so I decided to embrace my Portland residency and explore what all the fuss is about. It was also a nice added incentive for me that the introductory class was free (because full-time volunteers undeniably love free activities!).

The first chunk of class was all about learning how to properly set up the equipment, tie knots on the rope and handle the belay device. I was feeling confident as we headed over to a spot on the wall to each try our first climb, but when it was finally my turn to step up I had this sudden and funny feeling come over me. I think it was fear! I pulled myself up anyway and climbed and climbed and climbed as that heart-out-of-my-chest feeling rose and rose. Eventually the feeling hit my limit and I decided I was pretty darn close enough to the top of the wall. I had no hope at that point of remembering the proper climber lingo I had been taught for telling my partner that I wanted to be lowered, so with care not to actually look towards the ground, I yelled down a nice "I'm done!" and eagerly waited to reunite with the ground. I'm not sure if I would describe my feeling after as the typical adrenaline rush -- I actually had to sit down for a minute -- but I definitely did feel proud of myself. And I realized how freeing it can feel to do something that scares you every once in a while.

It's no surprise that I'm strongly influenced by the books I read, but I always find it kind of uncanny how well-timed what I'm reading tends to line up with what is happening in my life. I've consequently developed this unflinching confidence that books will never let me down. And as it so happens, a few days after my rock-climbing experience I was reading a section of Sonya Renee Taylor's "The Body is Not an Apology" about fear-facing. Sonya says "To be fear-facing is to learn the distinction between fear and danger. It is to look directly at the source of the fear and assess if we are truly in peril or if we are simply afraid of the unknown" (66). She likens the unknown to a fog, but asserts that the only way out is through. She also shares a quote from Davide Carrera, a free-diver: "The dive is a spiritual thing...I learn how to listen to my body...Every meter is a tiny freedom." I love this acknowledgement that doing things that scare us teach us how to trust ourselves, in some wild way bringing us closer to who we really are.

Fear-facing happens in ways big and small. When I really think about it, my choice to move to Portland and participate in a service year was an experiment in fear facing. Though I didn't have the cute phrase to label it with at the time, I had this understanding with myself that I needed to do something that made me feel afraid in order to grow. As a person with a previous fear of cats, my small daily interactions with the cat that lives in my neighborhood are tiny experiments in fear facing, too. So was going rock-climbing. So is teaching yoga.

As sickly-anxious as I felt getting on the plane to leave home for Portland the first time, when I had to do it the second time it wasn't quite as scary. With each interaction I share with Johnny (the cat), I let him come a little closer and feel the space for him in my heart grow a little bigger. But the point is not really that I am no longer afraid of living far from home (because I'm actually moving back to be closer) andnot that I am no longer afraid of Johnny (because I am still skittish around most other cats). Ultimately it doesn't really matter to me whether I've erased the fear or not. It matters that I've faced it, that I've been in it, that I know I can be okay being in it. I've become acquainted with the unknown enough to believe that I can survive in the unknown again.

What would you do if you weren't afraid? Do one thing every day that scares you. They sound like tired clichés but more and more I am finding that these overlooked nuggets of wisdom that we're tempted to roll our eyes at can hold a lot of profundity in their simplicity, if we are willing to turn off auto-pilot for long enough to actually give them a try.