Fear

A long time ago, a college professor -- one of the great teachers in my life -- taught me that, to the conscientious observer, Life is the greatest, most constant teacher of all; and with attention, patience, and curiosity, Life teaches all lessons. It was a powerful concept in the classroom, rendered even more so by the fact that I discovered it to be true. There is potential for learning, and for the demonstration of some principle, around every corner.

The other day, I saw a tiny green bug on a counter top. It was on its back, and it was struggling to right itself. I waited a moment to see whether it could achieve its aim by its own power, and when I decided it couldn't, I gave it a little nudge. It worked: the bug was on its feet. But instead of hurriedly crawling or flying off, it stood perfectly still, as if stunned. I was puzzled by this response at first, but I soon realized it was -- anthropomorphizing aside -- frightened by what it perceived to be the gigantic, unpredictable, possibly malevolent force which had, in fact, so drastically altered its situation for the better.

It occurred to me that many of us experience similar fears when faced with life-changing events, or even the consideration thereof. Fear is, of course, an adaptive, healthy response to perceived danger. After all, fear prepares us to get ourselves out of harm's way, which is definitely not a bad thing. What's curious, though, is that our fear responses are often grossly out of proportion to any actual danger that may exist; it's also curious that, oftentimes, that which we perceive to be a terrible threat is, in fact, a Godsend.

I do not advocate throwing caution to the wind and ignoring all fear -- absolutely not. But I do think it's important that we acknowledge both the fallibility and limiting potential of fear. Moreover, when afraid, it's important that we at least pause and consider whether the object of our fear may, in fact, bring us much good.