Those were my words of advice to a five year old at the donut shop a few weeks ago. A group of families were waiting around while our kids ran and played in anticipation of an after-school event. His parents were trying to get him to work up the courage to walk up to the counter and order his own treat, but he was afraid to do so. I’m not sure why he was afraid, he didn’t offer an explanation. I also didn’t ask him (which in hindsight, could have revealed useful information). But there he was, trying to be coaxed by his eager parents to help him overcome this fear. They asked, do you have any advice? In my most serious, but compassionate voice I leaned down and whispered to him with a smile, do it scared. Anyway.

Oh if only it were that simple. It felt good to offer this advice, not just because I was confident he could overcome his fear (he didn’t by the way immediately take the advice). But quite frankly, it was advice I needed to hear myself. Isn’t it ironic when the advice we offer others, turns out to be the advice we needed to hear ourselves? Similar to that kindergartener, I heard my words, but I didn’t immediately do anything with them. I too was still paralyzed by fear. I was reminded of the fact that even as an adult, our negotiation with fear never really goes away.

Here’s what I wrote (to myself) in my journal this time a year ago:

To go new places and do new things, I have to confront my fears head on.  It’s the best way to learn what I need to learn.  What am I afraid of in this season, what is fear trying to teach me right now?

(Quick note: this is why I’m such a huge advocate of journaling and reflection practices… it’s a reminder that you often already possess the wisdom and intuition you need. Sometimes we just forget.)

At the time I wrote this, my wife was leaving her job to launch her business full time, I was barely a year into my own full time consulting, and life was full of uncertainty. The question of what am I afraid of in this season, had a lot of answers. Naming my fears was an important part of the process because it helped to bring conscious awareness. It was like turning on the light in a dark room. Sometimes things that seem scary in the dark lose their potency in the light of day. Then I began to get curious and ask myself, what are these fears trying to teach me? Talk about a revelation.

In my faith tradition we weren’t really raised to ask a lot of questions, and being curious about fear was definitely discouraged. I was taught that fear was bad, we needed to get rid of it, as if it has nothing to offer. But the truth is more complicated (as truths tend to be right?). Fear of getting burned can signal to a child to avoid fire or stoves. Fear doesn’t have to be debilitating, but it can be instructive if we let it. Fear is natural, and like any other emotion, it’s our response to fear that matters.

If I could redo the conversation with that five year old boy I would tell him that it’s ok to be afraid. In fact, it’s normal. Then, I’d extend my hand and offer to go with him as he attempts to conquer his fear. It’s what I wish for myself.

SDW3