April 19th, 2012

When you live with Fear, it’s your constant companion, reminding you of its presence, dominating your thoughts and actions. The same with living in Fear, you make each choice based on what you’re afraid of, constantly and consistently giving in to the Fear, feeding it’s power over you.

When you live within Fear, you acknowledge the Fear, and go towards it, saying ‘Yes, I am afraid, let’s see what happens anyway.’ Living within Fear is like living within a home. Your home protects you, but you still go outside, sometimes far away. Your Fear protects you too, in fact that’s its real job, and you can go beyond the Fear, as well.

Fear Bag zazzle_bag
If you like this thought, come visit the SocialCaterpillar store.

Comfort not Conquering 

We don’t really conquer fear, if we were to be entirely fearless, we’d probably be dead pretty quickly too. Fear has it’s uses, it’s when it dominates our choices that it becomes a problem. And you don’t break through fear anymore than you break through a wall by rushing at it headlong. You’re smarter than that, you look for a door.

Fear has doors. No really, I swear, think about it. Most big fears can be broken down into smaller bits. If I were to find a way to take the stage tomorrow, there’s an incredibly good chance that my knees would knock, I’d forget my name, and quietly back out the hall, turning and running for all I was worth.

And Behind Door Number Two

Of course, instead of throwing myself against that wall, I’ve been looking for a door. I’m taking an improv class, to improve my ability to think on my feet. I keep planing go to Toastmasters to gradually get speaking practice in. I can host webinars and classes, increasing group size with each new class. Each time I’m going through a Fear door, going outside, knowing that I can go back home.

Once you’ve gone through a Fear door you can start to build a new room there, one with it’s own door, stretching the boundaries of your Fear, changing your relationship with Fear. Life is rarely an all or nothing game. You get where you’re going in stages and, in fact, you get to choose the steps.

What are you working towards, what’s your next step?

Want to receive small comfort zone stretches and resource recommendations every couple of weeks? Sign up for Inching Along and I’ll send you one small (possibly even fun) challenge that you can easily accomplish plus other nuggets that I find.
You know, you can get updates by email or RSS. Yay, updates!

In the comments:

We’re being open here, sharing and saying things we don’t always say out loud. What helps: Sharing your stories and Ideas. Cheering and telling what works/worked for you. What hurts: shoulds, harshness, and such. (I used to teach first grade, I can’t help it.)

Tags: , , , , ,

  • R.M. Koske

    I LOVE your analogy of fear as a house.  All the elements really make sense – it protects you but can be too limiting if you stay in all the time, it’s okay to travel out and come back…wonderful.  I need to add this to my “ideas to ponder” and see where it leads me.

    I have for a while thought of what you’re calling door-finding as “getting out of the center.”   I
    picture my comfort zone as a circle, and I’m in the middle.  The closer I
    get to the edge, the more uncomfortable I am, but it isn’t a
    requirement that I run full-tilt at the edge.  All I need to do is get
    out of the center.  My new position becomes the center of a slightly larger zone. 

    It is inaccurate to think of it that way, of course, because my zone is
    unevenly shaped and the gradations of comfort are unpredictable.  But it
    encourages me to go to the point of nervousness instead of thinking of
    it as all or nothing.

  • http://thesocialcaterpillar.com/ Kathryn Hunter

    The imagery of shifting your center is great! And I love the idea of an amorphous edge to our comfort zones, because not only are they different depending on what we’re doing, they’re different depending on what we did previous to that moment. 

  • Tatum Maguire

    Awesome!

  • http://thesocialcaterpillar.com/ Kathryn Hunter

    Thank you, my dear!