A lesson in fear

I was training a very nice lady today. Let's call her Beth. She has the outward appearance of a broiled baby robin. Scrawny and tawny, anxiety rolls off of her in waves. Her energy is so fearful and anxious at all times that I feel like a bridle and a sugar cube should be on hand whenever she comes to visit. And praps a trank gun.

In the training session, she came in apologizing for her sweaty armpits, wanted to close the door so nobody heard how little she (thought) she knew about the product. I told her this was just an assessment to see where additional training could be developed. She was a nervous wreck the entire time. Hey, not everybody's a rock star, but it upsets me to think about what she's missing out on in life by carrying this huge burden of fear on her back.

Which made me recall my own experience with fear...

The other night I had a weird dream before I awoke. I was climbing a rollercoaster track on foot. I dream often of rollercoasters, usually they are dangerous and life-threatening, where the harnesses break, or the shoulder bars fly open, or are about to fly open, and I spent the whole dream riding this rollercoaster in mortal fear for my life, holding onto anything to stay in. Hanging upside down, feeling my body start to succumb to gravity...feeling my leg slip out...my other leg....sweaty hands grabbing and sliding...dangling from the car....not quite letting go. I'd never let go, and I'd never get off the ride. I just keep doing this death grip dance all night.

I hate those dreams. They seem to love me, though.

This recent dream was about me manually walking a track with a bunch of other people, up and down, around...I was trying to reach a goal.

Pretty obvious as far as metaphors go, right?

We were all very solitary in our journey; I would not stop to help someone else, they would not stop to help me. It was a private achievement that I chose to undertake.

I got to the top. I could not believe I got to the top. And it wasn't even as hard as I thought it would be. I looked around and noticed the "top" of the track was probably 10 miles from the crust of the earth. I got instant vertigo and felt fear grip my chest. I looked wildly around at the person who was there to greet us - right behind him was a platform that took you to safety, to get you back down. I couldn't wait for my turn to get off this very narrow, slippery track. When it was my turn to go, I realized the platform was too far away. I looked down and saw monkeybars connecting the track to the platform.

Everyone ahead of me was swinging across the monkeybars and got up to the platform.

With no net.

Dangling above the earth.

My palms are sweating right now as I recall this. I immediately got painfully sweaty hands when I looked down, seeing miles and miles of sky going down to the ground, never feeling so close to mortal death. I knew if I tried to do this, I would fall, and I'd die. I was paralyzed with fear. I knew my hands were so slimy they'd slip, even if I had the strength to hold on.

I woke up, sat up out of a dead sleep, heart pounding, with sweaty palms.

I thought about this fear a lot, and decided it had everything to do with letting go. Maybe it's a lesson in conquering fear. Makes sense since I've been so Zen and balanced lately about everything other than romantic relationships.

But as for the dream, as for the fear of dying...What's the worst that could happen? If I died trying to reach my goal, I go straight Home to the Other side. Where, if stories are to be believed, I'll be happier than I could ever imagine. The question was, would I let this fear, on top of the sweaty hands that could cause my death, stop me from finishing a goal?

Would I halt my own progress just because I was afraid?


Very interesting stuff.