The Art of Fear

Oh the art of fear, it is a delicate balance. Fear is designed to keep one safe. We inherently come with a fear of heights and/or falling. Oprah encourages us to follow our fear, meaning that this primal instinct is king queen when it comes to self preservation.

But Fear can be a wily creature that, when left unfettered, has a tendency to grow wild and spread pervasively. Having its root in rational fear is what can make irrational fear especially tricky. I have rational fears but growing children has exacerbated my penchant for irrational fear. My imagination has taken what was meant to keep me and mine safe and run amuck: how could I possibly get two small children out their car seats and to safety should our truck carreen into an icy river, I no longer sleep naked since I don't fancy rescuing the kids and taking them to safety in the nude, I don't like flying or travelling long distances with both kids or just me and my husband for fear I would orphan the kids or desert my spouse if there were a terrible accident, and I am terrified by the idea of my beloveds toppling off some precipice. Oh, and deep dark bodies of water freak the crap out of me, that one is new. 

Knowing these fears are irrational is half the battle I think (the other half being the art of discerning what is a rational fear or intuition) and I have developed methods of mitigating them. Sometimes it is as simple as saying to myself, "that is silly, drop it." when we walk across a bridge. I choose to focus on my joy and not an imaginary loss. Still there are other times, when the fear is more nagging and persistent, that I allow myself to move through the fear. I imagine the worst that could happen, and the limits that I have to control it.  What is out of my control is out of my control. Acknowledging that I have done my part to reduce the likelihood of a tragedy befalling my household before dawn brings a sense of peace. I unplug things, I wear clothes to bed, and I say a prayer. I give away the fear. C'est la vie.