April 8th

Anxiety -- To Be Afraid or Not to Be Afraid

Anxiety - To be afraid or not to be afraid
 
In the last few weeks, I have observed a variety of emotional reactions in people, including myself. Covid-19 and its effects are touching everyone’s life in some way. If it isn’t illness, separation, isolation, losing someone, fear of death, travelling, grocery shopping, struggling to get services that used to always be available, feeling locked up, loss of a job, or financial anxiety, it is not knowing how long this will last, how bad it will be, and the discomfort of such uncertainty. We never did know what would happen tomorrow, but we often live as if we could predict the future. Now there is an inescapable and growing awareness of what has always been true: we are mortal, we are not in control, the future is unknown, and what we can do about that is very limited.

These are uncomfortable thoughts. In a world focused on success, security, and well-being, we are usually encouraged to ignore our weakness and mortality, and doggedly work towards our goals. We bravely overcome our fear by ignoring (Smile until you are happy!), minimizing (It’s not so bad.), explaining (What I understand, I do not fear.), and distracting (Let’s do something fun!).

Behind the façades, anxiety levels were already high. (How much anti-anxiety medication is prescribed in Canada every day?) Now there is a pandemic, and it is apparent how unsafe so many of us feel.

People cope with their fear and anxiety, and the lack of control over what frightens them, in various ways. We swing back and forth between different responses as the situation, and our perception of it, changes. We may panic. We may grasp for assurances and control. We may deny. We may panic buy. What to believe? Is it reasonable to be so afraid?

Here is what I notice in myself. The everyday, relatively domestic fear that sometimes stops me from doing something I’m drawn to is mostly built up of thoughts. And those thoughts have a restrictive feel and effect. Like brakes being applied to my wheels.

Suppose that I’m feeling this way, and I take time to reflect and sense deeply into myself—particularly in the presence of God, or of trustworthy human love— then what I usually experience is calm, peace, trust, grounded-ness, wellbeing, spaciousness, and a presence that I can trust no matter the circumstances in my life. My fear dissipates. It was fumes in my head. Even so, sometimes I will find that there is a real and serious basis for my fear. My fear is serving a very real and useful purpose.

Fear protects me from doing foolish things which could put myself and others in danger. It keeps me safe. But if that protective function is too strong, then my fear becomes a prison. My brakes jam on. My life becomes constricted and limited. It isn’t far, now, to paralysis.

Trust is the antidote to excessive and paralysing fear. Trust gives me the confidence to live my life, and the courage to live with what is unknown. I feel free to show up and be who I am. My potential is more free. And despite the circumstances, I feel that things will work out. I can join Mother Julian in asserting that all shall be well. I am not even afraid to die if that is coming, and of course that is eventually coming.

Feeling accepted and loved calms my fears and energizes me. At its most extreme, it is a feeling that can lead to the misguided sense that anything is possible and a potentially dangerous ignoring of reality. That is to be guarded against too. Although anything is possible for God, I’m human, and I need to stay in touch with reality and it’s very real dangers at the same time as surrendering into God’s love and purpose knowing that even if things turn out otherwise than I hope, I am still loved.

Both fear and trust are needed for balance. Both wings are needed if the bird is to fly.

If I can settle into myself and look at my fears from a place of acceptance and curiosity, I can get a better sense of what my fear is really about. Then I can look clearly at both my fear and my trust and bring them into balance. Remembering that I am loved soothes my anxiety, gives me perspective, but without me turning a blind eye to the reality I live in. Like my teacher (Dr Bear) says, it is like learning to swim, swim well and strongly with both arms, instead of trying to build an even bigger boat and pretending that a bigger boat will be unsinkable.

Written by  Lucia Eitzen, M.A., CCC is a counsellor in private practice.
Lucia attends Langley Mennonite Fellowship.

You can find her at www.agapecounselling.com 

Thank you to James Bekkers for the Photo