I am far from fearless.
I fear doing something the wrong way and ruining it.
I am afraid that I will accidentally hurt someone with something I say or do.
I fear the idea that I may someday look back on my life and see a series of missed changes, missteps and regrets.
I am afraid that people will realize my insecurities and like me less for them.
I fear that the things I think I am good at I actually am only mediocre, or even bad, at.
I am horribly afraid of free-roaming mice (if they’re pets, that’s fine, but wild mice, I’m flat-out jump on the couch and shriek afraid).
The list can go on, as I’m sure it does for everyone.
Fears can be debilitating, they can keep us from moving forward in our lives and they can hold us prisoner. And fear is not always rational.
A number of years ago I lived in an apartment that suffered from mice. They had found their way to my uncovered trash can (never again!) and decided they liked the place. So they stayed. And they made themselves at home. I remember hearing them scurry about while I lay, paralyzed, in my bed at night, afraid to let my feet touch the floor because they might come running at me. Because my fear of mice is particularly specific, I fear that they are going to run over my feet (see, “fear is not always rational.”) I remember one of them fearlessly walking into the middle of my living room one day, causing the previously mentioned couch-jumping and shrieking episode. Continue reading Facing Fears