How not to just ‘Free Solo’ overcoming your Fears
Free Solo (American documentary, 2018, National Geographic) - I highly recommend watching the award winning film. It inspired me in unexpected ways. The film is all about expanding your comfort zone step by step through precise practice and by accepting that fear is completely normal.
What are you afraid of? A simple question, yet one that can feel surprisingly infuriating. That’s a good sign though, you have work to do there! It’s often asked with good intentions, but for the person on the receiving end, it can create unexpected tension.
Eye of the tiger
Fear is completely normal and even necessary emotion in everyday life. You’ve probably heard similar stories: our ancestors might have gone extinct if they hadn’t feared the saber-toothed tigers. There’s a concept known as the four fear responses. I encourage you to do some research on the “four Fs of fear” to gain deeper insight later.
(Flight, Fight, Freeze, Fawn)
After their first encounter, our prehistoric cousins quickly learned that tigers were no joke. They adapted to future encounters in two ways:
Flight - They learned to avoid tigers by studying their behavior and the paths where encounters were likely.
Fight - They also prepared to defend themselves when they had no other choice. Let’s include hunting in this category.
Freeze - We’ll skip this one today, because back then, freezing meant becoming dinner for team human.
Fawn - I’m focusing on action in this piece, so we’ll leave this one out. It’s also pretty counterintuitive in the context of tigers.
On the land of Falling Chestnuts
All right, with the basics out of the way let me share a mundane perhaps even stupid example. My relationship with chestnuts. Not as a culinary experience, but as an autumn occurrence in parks. I cannot pinpoint when this connection began; I don’t even recall if one has ever landed on my head. But I do remember chestnuts being part of my life for four solid years.
You see, I attended a high school next to one of the most scenic squares I’ve ever seen. At its center stood a gorgeous stone fountain, surrounded by benches where people could sit and relax. Pretty typical stuff. However, the entire square was planted with chestnut trees. Their lives started decades before my existence as those trees were enormous.
This created an autumn airspace busy with ripe chestnuts falling, often still wrapped in their adorably spiked husks. I still dread the thought of being hit by one of these, even though the chances were slim. According to Copilot, there’s about a 4-5% chance if you stand under a 30-meter-tall tree for long enough. If you’ve ever wondered, now you know.
My response on the way to and from school? Straight into flight mode, I avoided the entire middle section of the square every time. I just didn’t feel like risking it. I kind of knew nothing would happen, but I still didn’t want to risk it. Interestingly, I was happy to stand under the same trees during breaks between classes. The group effect was stronger in that case I guess. What am I on about? That was over 15 years ago, and now I live far away from that square. So what has changed?
Parenthood kicked in the door.
So I had to start dealing with it, right there. Those little brown chestnuts are perfect candidates for child collector’s items. You might get away by finding some in the vicinity, sure. But the big stack lies right under trees’ canopy, the danger zone. This means, that children are drawn to those fields like magnets. As they moved closer and closer in their quest to find the shiniest chestnuts, I realized just how small my comfort zone on this topic really was.
Into the airspace we went then and I couldn’t really ease my mind about the perceived danger of falling husks. We collected a decent-sized bucket of chestnuts, though it took waaaaay longer than I considered reasonably safe for my head. The little one had a helmet on. Surprisingly to me, nothing bad happened, we even had a huge amount of fun playing around with those not-so-little seedlings. t would’ve been a missed experience if I had chosen to flee from that tree again. I’m glad curiosity won on those days when we collected chestnuts instead of fearing they’d fall on our heads.
Conquering social anxiety
Another troublesome part of life was speaking in front of more than one person, or starting conversations with strangers. I never was a big fan of those occasions. Honestly? Hated them. The feeling was so strong that I avoided them altogether for a long time like they were fire. Completely in flight mode. Behind the avoidance? Anxiety what others might think about what I had to say. Or the fact that sometimes I felt I didn’t have anything valuable to add, so I stayed quiet. Because I didn’t know everything and was afraid to admit it. (I still don’t know everything by the way.) I feared that someone would uncover this truth.
The most empowering moment was realizing that nothing bad happens if that truth comes out. On the contrary! Sometimes sharing vulnerability enables others to share their truth as well. To me those jointly created moments are the most valuable, I care for those deeply. So what did I do to get better? I figured out a way to practice. I started small, gradually becoming comfortable with the awkwardness of breaking the ice with complete strangers at events. Then I accepted that not everyone would want to talk to me, and that’s okay too.
Is it smooth sailing now? Far from it, I still start some encounters anxiously. Same with talking to multiple people at once. But the best thing? As I look back at my past self, I’m incredibly proud of the journey I’ve completed. I learned a lot and established valuable connections along the way. I would have missed those opportunities if I hadn’t kept practicing.
Importance of practice
What was common in both experiences? I wasn’t alone, and I wanted to reach a point where I could picture myself happy. I also realized that missing out bothered me more than the overwhelming fear I felt. Neither of those mindset shifts happened overnight. I had to keep practicing being present in the moment, really being there. It wasn’t enough to picture myself happy, I had to keep going for it. This made the experience less radical and more of a relatively smooth transition. It didn’t feel forced, and I looked forward to making progress each time. Because I became curious about what fulfillment might look like on the other side.
Bravery of the first step
My takeaway in both cases was that the first step is always the most daunting, because in that moment the fear of the unknown feels overwhelming. I understand the difficulty in imagining how that fear shrinks as you keep working through it. But it always does. The catch?
You have to put in the work.
There are no shortcuts and you can’t outsmart it. You make progress by doing, not by imagining. And if you do, you might just become increasingly proud of yourself, even if all it means is that you collected a few intimidating chestnuts with your child.
It’s perfectly okay to ask for support. You don’t have to figure everything out on your own. While I believe everyone is their own best expert, I’m also a big believer in asking for help to create change together. It’s comforting to have someone by our side as we go through transitions. If you’re feeling motivated to expand your comfort zone and curious about how I can support you on your journey, let’s talk.
