Overcoming Fear on a Cliffside in Portugal
Fear.
The thing that totally consumed me, as I clung to the side of a rockface on the coast of Cascais in Portugal, too scared to push away and let my partner at the bottom control the speed of my descent down the cliff. I was helpless. Intimidated by the numerous unknown factors that, in my mind, could all lead to me crashing into the rocky sea below.
(Sidenote: If you haven’t already, give rock climbing [with a professional guide/team] a go. You’ll learn so much about your own trust and control issues… or maybe that’s just me.)
In this moment, hung and clung (what a phrase!) on a cliffside in Portugal, with a harness digging into places I never knew existed, I was faced with two options. Either keep freaking out and spiral into a tornado of worry and panic, letting fear completely control me. (Not to mention, remain stuck at the top of this rock, wearing weird, sock-like climbing shoes, with no hope of descent in sight.)
Or I could breathe. Trust. And fly.
Despite being a naturally dramatic person, I didn’t want to ruin the day for everyone else, so I opted for the second choice. Shakily calling out to my partner below, I detached my weird shoe-clad feet from the crevices into which they were wedged, relaxed my ridiculously tense cactus arms, bit-by-bit, and slowly worked up the courage to push back and fly.
Whenever I think of fear, I immediately think of things like rock climbing, bungee jumping (something I have literally no desire to do), and that one time I was in a taxi in Vietnam which clearly took me to a suuuuper sketchy part of town in order to increase my fare.
But I think fear hits a bit closer to home these days than a taxi ride in Vietnam. And over the past few months, I was dealing with a larger dose of fear than I would have liked. (And I think I’m not the only one.) Ironic, seeing as fear is a word not often used in sentences with my name, unless followed by the ending “-less”, which honestly makes me chuckle. I’ve been described as fearless by a few too many people, in my opinion. But as I thought about why this week, it dawned on me.
Fear gives people power.
I don’t think I’m fearless.
In fact, I’d wager a guess that I’m the opposite. Just a few weeks ago, I was 50% sure I was going to be kicked out of Germany for improperly immigrating during a pandemic. After I speak about 10 words of German in a row I get too scared of the grammar to continue, so I switch back to English. And just last week, ahead of my first proper date since landing back in the kingdom of singledom, I ran around my flat turning lights off and on, channeling my nervousness into an obsession with mood lighting (how many candles are too creepy? How many are just right?).
You see, I’ve got plenty of fear in my life on a daily basis. But in my lightbulb moment this week, I realized that I’ve gotten pretty good at learning how to harness it.
Because, I’ll say it again for the folks in the back: fear gives people power. It gives toxic bosses a power trip over their employees. It prevents many people from becoming travelers, exploring new places and cultures that have been described as too “different.” And it paralyzes a hell of a lot of people when faced with adrenaline-pumping activities like bungee jumping and rock climbing.
Fear is a powerful thing.
What matters is what you do with that power.
Because once you confront that fear, and steal a quick peek at what’s hiding on the other side, whether it be exploring someplace wonderfully foreign or leaving behind an anxiety-inducing work environment, the coolest thing starts to happen: Your perspective shifts. Your weird shoe-clad feet start to slowly wiggle out of the crevices. Your tense cactus arms let go. You gingerly start to open one of your clamped-shut eyes to wink at the view below.
And you fly.
You might lose speed every now and then, accidentally drop a few feet too quickly, or stick an ungraceful landing, but the bottom line is, you took flight, thanks to the power of your fear. So before I get carried away with rockclimbing metaphors, let me just confirm once again that I’m not a fearless person.
I’m starting a killer new job this week, with an incredible company, going through an intimidating residency process alone for the third time. And I’m scared. But come Monday morning, I’m absolutely stoked to rip off those metaphorical weird climbing shoes, detach my clawed hands from the cliffside of comfort, and push myself out into the unknown.
It’s totally scary. But I’ve got fuel, in the form of my fear, and I’m ready to fly.