Emotions, Life’s Gift

Fear is the sprinter of the Olympics, good for the 400, 200 and 100-meter dash. It is agile and quick at the first sight of danger. At 400 meters it makes us more alert when the danger is noticed and it remains far, at 200 meters it’s clearly in tune, approaching the gate to sprint. At l00 meters it triggers us to act now. To react with fight, flight, freeze or appease. Our body shuts down all that is unnecessary, and becomes laser focused in our survival — to move away from that which harms us. The problem is that when we feed and stay in fear, we are asking our sprinter to run a marathon race. We keep restarting the sprint like in the groundhog movie. It is not sustainable, it can damage our body, our ability to think clearly, and in the extreme in the case of panic, it can shock our body, can cause collapse and even death. We are exquisitely programed to respond to fear. After all we owe fear our survival as a species. Just like the sprinter needs to be in shape it is ok to sustain a certain degree of fear when we go out to get food or help others in our jobs, or when we face an empty wallet and have no food. But athletes are not practicing 24/7. They have rest time and engage in other activities, like eating healthy, socializing, laughing and resting. When we ruminate on the fear, or saturate our senses with information that highlights the danger and negative outcomes we tell fear that the race is not over and to keep running, and running and running. Our focus remains narrow since all we can focus on is the finish line, escaping that which harms us. Making clear decisions is not in the cards, because our energy is all going to just one place and has one objective, to move away from danger, without assessing the situation and the alternatives.

Anxiety frequently accompanies fear, making sure that the sprinter’s equipment runs right — that the cleats are there and that the starting point is right. Ready to anticipate any problems, keeping fear in the lane, constantly warning and rechecking everything. It magnifies the what ifs and frets over every possible set back and catastrophic possibility. Like the red light in our car, it keeps warning us about engine problems, even when there are none. It uses a ton of our internal resources, in the checking and rechecking to make things ok, and in extremes can totally paralyze us. Almost two thirds of the population is reporting anxiety, and more than…