I’ve always said that one of the gifts of physical adventure is that it can be so clarifying. Faced with an imminent or dangerous challenge, what’s most important to address first tends to become very clear, in very short order. A global pandemic like the coronavirus isn’t the kind of adventure anyone wants to encounter, of course. But sometimes, the uncertainty of an unwanted adventure gets thrown at us, and we’re left to react as best we can. And the lessons of adventure still apply.
The first and foremost of those lessons—and the one most important to address first in any adventure emergency—is the importance of managing our fears. Fear, as I once wrote in an entire Flying magazine column devoted to the subject, is a demon that needs to be wrestled into a box and kept there, so we can think calmly enough to figure out how to make it through whatever we’re facing.
Left unchecked, fear can paralyze us, impeding our capacity for clear thinking and creative problem-solving at the very times we need those abilities the most. It can also loom so large that the fear itself becomes a bigger threat than whatever actual challenge or danger is confronting us. We do not make our best decisions, or take the wisest courses of action, when we’re in the grip of fear. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had to take a deep breath and consciously visualize grabbing my fear by the throat and stuffing it into a locked box or baggage compartment, to give myself the space to think clearly about how to solve or cope with whatever caused the fear in the first place.
That’s not to say there aren’t circumstances where fear is warranted. And the idea that any of us can or should be “fearless” is a fantasy, unless our body chemistry includes a hormonal anomaly that suppresses the fight or flight response. But even when fear is justified, it’s not helpful in coping with the danger or risk facing us. That requires a clear head. So regardless of whether the fear at hand is a fear of loneliness, fear of an engine failure in flight, or fear of a global pandemic, it’s important to learn how to manage our fears.
So, here goes: a quick guide to managing the demon called fear.
I. Understand the enemy: Why it’s important, and possible, to combat our fears
The first step in managing fear is to recognize two of its essential characteristics. The first is, fear is not some uncontrollable force of nature. Fear is a tangible and dangerous enemy that can and must be contained and dealt with, for our own health and survival. The second characteristic—the reason it’s possible to fight it—is that fear is a creature of the future. Our fears are almost always about something we’re afraid will come to pass, not something that’s happening right now. What we will find, if we look too hard. What will happen to us, if we walk down that dark alleyway. What’s going to take place, or how we will feel, or what’s going to occur in some imagined future, three seconds or three years down the line.
And because fear is so focused in the future, one of the most effective initial strategies to counter it is to ask ourselves, “Am I okay right now?” That shifts our focus away from all those scary imagined futures and into the present moment, which does two things for us. First, it offers critical reassurance. To keep from being swallowed by our fears, we need that reality check to say, “I’m okay right now.” And second, that reassurance gives us some clear breathing room in which to assess and combat our fears more rationally.
II. Assess the enemy specifically and rationally
The second step in managing fear is to break down the overwhelming “I’m scared!” feeling into specific things we’re afraid of, and then assess each of those pieces to determine how valid they are. Over the course of 25+ years of coping with uncertain physical, professional, and life adventures, I’ve determined that fears generally fall into one of three categories of validity:
1) Not Valid
2) Valid but Avoidable
3) Valid and Unavoidable.
Assessing which category any given specific fear falls into is important for two reasons. First, it forces us to look at our fears more rationally, breaking them down into more manageable and concrete specifics, which helps us from being overwhelmed. And second, it helps us choose the best strategy for combatting any given fear, because what works best depends on what category of validity a fear falls into.
III. Combatting Fears that Are Not Valid
The easiest way to combat or manage a specific fear, once we focus and name it, is if we can determine that it’s not actually valid. So the first question we need to ask ourselves is, “Is this fear valid?” Many of our fears, after all, aren’t really credible threats. And sometimes, just naming a fear out loud shines a light on just how unlikely or unrealistic it really is.
A friend of mine—also a self-employed writer—often talked about how we both feared we were going to end up sleeping on a Lexington Avenue subway grate in New York City, penniless, homeless, and unemployable. It was a big, keep-us-up-at-two-in-the-morning fear. But the truth was, it was also awfully unlikely to happen. Long before that point, we’d both figure something out. I’d get a job doing something to keep the rent paid and the heat on. I once got a job for an entire semester cleaning animal cages at a lab, because it was the only job I could find. If I could do that to make ends meet, the reality-based truth is that despite my fears of complete failure and disaster, I’m unlikely to sit by and do nothing while my life train goes off a cliff.
The point, my friend said, whenever we talked about our subway grate fears, is that “monsters live in the dark.” Left alone and unchallenged, even exaggerated or ridiculous fears can haunt us like childhood monsters under the bed. But if we expose them to the light of day by naming them, sharing them, and looking at whether or not they’re really valid, a lot of them lose their power.
At the same time, especially in situations involving a lot of uncertainty (like a virus pandemic), it’s not always immediately clear whether a fear is valid is not. So in those cases, we need to fact-check those fears as best we can—using reliable, rational information—to determine what’s likely true against what we fear is true.
One of the home health aides who assists my 89-year-old, wheelchair-bound father, came in one day early in the outbreak saying we’d better run to the store immediately, because Stop & Shop had already closed all its stores and the governor was going to order all grocery stores to be closed. I told her that didn’t sound right, and asked where she’d gotten her information (Fact Check #1). She said that’s just what she’d heard. So (Fact Check #2), I pulled out my computer and searched the Stop & Shop website, as well as “coronavirus and Stop & Shop.” No closure information came up. In fact, an announcement had been posted on the company’s website saying that online orders were up 30%, and they were opening the store early for people over 60 years old, so those at high risk could shop in a less crowded environment.
I showed the aide the website information. “But the governor’s going to shut them down!” she insisted. So I went to the governor’s website, the state website, and the state department of health websites. No mention of any shut downs. In the internet era, if we are careful to select only credible sources (CDC, State government sites, company websites, etc.) it’s a lot easier than it used to be to put to rest a lot of invalid information and fears.
But then, (Fact Check #3), I asked the aide to think rationally and critically about her fear. “It doesn’t make any sense,” I explained. “Yes, there are going to be a lot of restrictions. Yes, there are going to be temporary shortages of some items because people are panic buying (not actual shortages, just fallout from panicked, fearful hording behavior). But people have to eat. Maybe they’ll do curbside delivery, maybe they’ll restrict how many people are in a store at a time. But the government wouldn’t shut down access to food completely. People would starve. They’re shutting down non-essential things. Food is an essential thing. They are going to figure out a way to keep it available to people.”
The weird thing was, even though I could see the aide processing the logic and data I was presenting, I could also tell she was reluctant to let go of her fear. Why people cling to fear is a whole different subject, but it’s a reminder that some of our friends and colleagues may also be (weirdly) comforted by, or attached to, their fears. So part of managing our own fears is limiting our exposure to those who want to ramp up their own.
IV. Combatting Fears that are Valid but Avoidable
Of course, not every fear is invalid. A fear of getting sick from the virus, for example, is not crazy. It’s a real possibility. But there’s a reason I divide even valid fears into two separate categories. Because one of the advantages of the fact that fear involves potential future events is that in many cases, if we identify what future possibility we’re afraid of, we can come up with a plan to avoid it.
Whenever I was flying my airplane and the weather conditions started to deteriorate, for example, I knew that there was a certain amount of validity to my fear of those conditions getting bad enough to threaten not just my trip, but my life. So the first thing I’d do is ask myself, “Are you okay right now?” That told me whether I needed to act immediately, or whether I had time to come up with a plan. If I determined that I was okay at that moment, I’d then start developing a plan to avoid the future possibility I was afraid of (that conditions would deteriorate to the point where I couldn’t fly or land safely). Usually, that plan consisted of setting limits to my risk exposure: if the visibility deteriorated below “x” distance, or the clouds got lower than “y” altitude, I would not continue. I would land at the nearest airport and wait for conditions to improve.
With the virus pandemic, the fear of getting sick is certainly valid. The consequences of getting sick do seem to vary, depending on our general state of health. So some of us are at a lower risk of dire consequences than others, which is certainly helpful to remember. But although we can’t eliminate the fear of getting sick (or any of the consequences, financial or health-related, that are associated with the pandemic), we can certainly come up with a plan to mitigate our risks. And coming up with a plan to reduce the risk ahead does two important things for us.
First, coming up with an actionable plan to reduce our exposure risk keeps us from feeling like helpless victims. And feeling helpless is a big factor in feeding the demon of fear. If we feel as if we’re commanders, looking to mitigate and reduce the risks of our ship and crew, we feel more powerful. And that alone helps keep our fear in check. But, secondly, plans also work. More than once, I managed to avoid an in-flight emergency by putting my risk-reduction plans into effect, landing somewhere other than where I’d planned to go. The more conscious we are of reducing our risks, the lower our risks actually become. In terms of the pandemic, creating and implementing plans like staying home, reducing grocery store visits to once a week, taking precautions to keep our distance from others in public, and regularly washing our hands and the things we touch, all fundamentally reduce our risk of getting sick. Which helps us manage our fear, even if we can’t eliminate it altogether.
V. Combatting Fears that are Valid and Unavoidable
Unfortunately, that still leaves a certain percentage of possible future events that no plan can shield us against. We still might get sick. And for some people, that could be catastrophic. Both of my parents are 89. My dad has been in a wheelchair for five years, so his lungs are compromised. My mom has a damaged lung from scarlet fever, which leaves her highly susceptible to pneumonia in the best of times. Increasing that inherent risk is the fact that my dad requires personal care aides 24 hours a day, which means 35 shifts of individual workers come through the house every week. State-paid minimum wage workers, who don’t get paid if they don’t work, even if they’re not feeling 100%.
My parents and I have come up with plans to mitigate those risks as much as possible, but a discomforting level of risk still exists. And so the fear—my parents’ fear, of getting sick and dying, and mine, of losing them—is still there. So what can we do to manage fears that are valid and can’t necessarily be avoided? After we’ve done everything we can to fact check our fears, and to develop plans to reduce the chances of those scary futures ever coming true, we still have one fear-controlling weapon at our disposal: focus.
A few years ago, one of my editors signed me up to take part in a professionally-guided climb of Mt. Blanc in the European Alps. My criticisms of professionally-guided climbing, and why it’s so often a bad idea, could fill pages. But the relevant point here is that our guides chose to teach us novices how to use crampons (spiked plates that go on the bottom of your hiking boots to give you traction in snow and ice) on a breathtakingly narrow mountain ridge. There was barely enough room for two hikers to pass on the steeply ascending ridge, and there was a 9,000 foot drop on one side.
Partway up the ridge, one of my crampons came loose, flopping uselessly to the side of my boot. I called out to the guide ahead of me, but he looked back and said, “I can’t fix it here. There’s no room. You’ll have to get to the top without it.” The ridge was piled high with ice and snow, and my boot was slipping. I then made the mistake of looking down to where I would land, 9,000 feet below, if I slipped off the ridge on that side. My heart began to race, and I could feel my breath getting rapid and shallow. I was racing headlong through fear straight into panic, which I could feel sliding through my body like a cold, physical wave, leaving a lightheaded paralysis in its wake.
I couldn’t magically get myself off that ridge, and I couldn’t instantly acquire the skills I needed to fix my own crampon and get up the ridge safely. But I could control where I chose to focus. With discipline developed over many other adventures that required managing fear, I turned my focus away from the “I don’t know enough to handle this and if I mess up I’m doing to die” big, scary, overwhelming picture, and forced myself to focus 100% of my attention on the small task and space in front of me. Get a firm footing with the crampon-equipped boot. Dig a hole with the toe of the other boot and make sure it’s secure before putting your weight on it. Fix your hiking poles firmly on both sides. Take one step. Don’t look down. Don’t look anywhere but right in front of you. Focus on the next step, and the next step only. In addition to giving my full attention to a challenging task that required my full attention to execute successfully, focusing on each small task and step in front of me kept my mind too occupied to let fear or panic take hold. And that conscious focusing of our attention is a trick that works no matter what the life challenge is.
I asked my husband once why he didn’t stay awake at night worrying about getting sick or old, losing his parents, something happening to his children, or any of those big and unavoidable fears of life. He answered, “I ask myself, ‘Will worrying about this change anything?’ If the answer’s no, I consciously put it aside and think about all the good things in life I actually have. Because otherwise, I’m wasting away even the good parts. And for what? I’ll cope with all those things if and when I have to.”
Perhaps I should note that I’m married to a very wise man, who’s very good at keeping things in perspective. But he’s right. No matter how much we fear or worry about something, we generally cope better than we fear we will when we’re faced with an actual crisis or challenge. One reason for that is because our fears almost always loom larger than reality turns out to be. Imagination is a boundless land. But it’s also because in the moment of something bad happening, there are specific actions, decisions, and tasks to be taken care of. And that focuses us, and moves us forward, in a way that we can’t when we’re coping with a vague fear about something that hasn’t happened yet, or might not ever happen.
I can focus obsessively on my fear of losing my parents, and it won’t change the outcome one tiny bit. But it will keep me from enjoying and treasuring the time I have with them, while that lasts. And it will make me miserable far before I need to be. So after I’ve planned and taken all the precautions I can to protect them, my task is to take my fear and consciously lock it in a steel box, so my fears of what might be don’t ruin what I actually have. I may not be able to control the outcome, but I can choose to focus instead on hearing my mom’s laughter and savoring our conversations together. And beyond bringing me small moments of joy, that focus leaves less space for the demon of fear to take hold and overwhelm me.
The final weapon we have against the fears we cannot dismiss as invalid, or plan to avoid, is one of faith. I don’t necessarily mean that in a religious way, although people’s spiritual faith can often give them tremendous strength to endure and manage fear. But we can also have faith in the resiliency and strength of the human spirit. Human beings are remarkably adaptable and resilient creatures. Think about all the post-tornado or hurricane footage of people rolling up their sleeves and getting on with rebuilding their lives after disaster. We go on. We may not go on emotionally the same, or completely intact. But we go on. We are stronger than we often imagine, or fear, we are.
Believe in that strength, and that resiliency. Ask yourself constantly, “Am I okay right now?” Break down your fear into specific components that you can fact check for validity. Develop plans to avoid what is avoidable. And for what is left, will yourself to focus on all that is good and beautiful. Turn off the scary websites and Facebook posts. Hold your family close. Remember your strength. And whenever fear starts looming over your shoulder, determinedly shove it back in a locked strongbox, where it can’t do as much damage.
Oh, yes. And one more thing: remember to savor the beauty and promise of sunrise. For the sun always manages to rise again, no matter how dark the night has been.
