If you’ve been following me for a while, you know that
I’ve had quite a lot of recent experience with people
close to me “kicking the bucket.” The result had been a
persistent obsession with my own demise.
When on a steep hillside on my riding mower, I’d be
thinking about the mower tipping over on top of me,
severing a limb. Would I want to live?
When planning my spring trip to the Grand Canyon, I was
sure I’d fall to my death while rock climbing. Before
the trip I found myself talking with my siblings about
my wishes should I not return alive.
Similarly, while planning a trip around Mt. Rainier in
snowy June, I was filled with images of sliding off the
edge of an icy cliff, or breaking a leg or being buried
in an avalanche. This was not difficult to imagine,
since the week before our trip, six climbers were
killed there in an avalanche.
But something happened on that Mt. Rainier trip that
changed everything.
When we were about to set out, the park rangers told us
no one had yet successfully circumnavigated the
mountain this early in the season. There was too much
snow, making navigation difficult and dangerous. A
critical bridge was washed out, so we’d have to cross a
raging glacial river. Then, we heard that a group had
survived, but dearly wished they’d had ice axes and
crampons–which we hadn’t brought along.
If we managed the river crossing, we’d reach a
particularly steep mountain side that would be
especially tricky if it was icy. One of my companions
had already fallen and slid down snowy slopes several
times, once onto a nasty pile of sharp boulders.
The river crossing wasn’t nearly as bad as predicted.
But, when we reached the slope in question, it was even
steeper than I’d feared. Sure enough, beneath the snow
was a layer of ice I was too light to break through.
Translation: no traction, and huge potential for
skidding hundreds of feet, into the great beyond.
Several things could have happened here. One, my
obsession with dying could have resulted in
unconsciously making that outcome true. Since I’m
writing this, you know that didn’t happen.
Two, my fear could have propelled me to turn back. But,
the way back wasn’t much less treacherous than the way
forward, and would have presented enormous logistical
problems.
The third possibility, which is what happened, is that
my fear translated into utter determination to stay
upright on my own two feet, every step down that slope.
The unexpected result of surviving that hour unscathed
was total elation. We survived! Even better was the
longer term result of feeling firmly planted in my
life. Gone is the feeling of fragility, mortality,
ambivalence about being alive.
Now, how can you apply this story to your own life?
What’s the take home point?
Is it, “Face Your Fear?”
“Step Outside of Your Comfort Zone?”
“Embrace Life?”
“Come Alive by Facing Death?”
To me, its value is that I wrote it down.
As I read this story I wrote almost a month ago, it’s a
great antidote to feeling out of sorts because it
reminds me of all the feelings of elation, of strength,
confidence, gratitude, amazement, of feeling so
overstuffed with life that I felt I’d burst.
That’s what I’d suggest to you: when something
amazingly good happens in your life, find a way to
record it so you can use it in the future at some time
when you feel discouraged, powerless, sad.
It doesn’t have to be a death-defying wilderness
adventure. It could be anything that at the time led to
you feeling amazed, relieved, proud, awed, overjoyed…
Anything that makes you feel empowered, lucky, good
about yourself is good to notice and remember.
The more you practice noticing and remembering all the
cool, amazing, fabulous, lucky, wonderful things you’ve
experienced, the better your life gets.
Will you share something that happened in your life
that helped you feel good on remembering it?
I have no fear of death. My fear left me years ago when I entered a new profession. I was a firefighter/paramedic that got into some major fires that it became questionable in some situations if I would make it out. As a paramedic I was shot at, was in a vehicle, doing patient care, that was under a semi and leaking diesel fuel. Then I took a job on the side working on a trauma helicopter. When the weather got bad, it was a rough ride. Where do you go? Nowhere, you ride it out and hope for the best.
My near misses left me with no fear of death anymore. I made peace with everything, had my wishes written out and made my funeral arrangements and made a DVD for my Celebration of Life service. Nobody had any responsibility in their time of mourning. Did I quit my jobs? Hell no! I loved them and if I met my maker, I died doing what I loved!
This may not be what you wanted, but it’s my story on how I dealt with it.
Hi Debbie,
It’s amazing how freeing it is in being fully alive when you make peace with your own death! Thanks so much for sharing your story.
I’m late in discovering this post, but would like to respond:
Oddly enough, one of my highest points is very closely linked to one of my lowest & would not have been possible for me to experience without having reached that low point. I had suddenly found myself a newly single Mom when my first husband left on none too happy terms. While this precipitated a crisis in which my world blew apart, it led me to discover, also rather quickly, what my real foundation was. It also led me to take responsibility for my part in what happened (yes, it takes two) & in that honest & vulnerable place, letting my worst hang out for all to see, I discovered in my social & spiritual contexts not judgement, but LOVE; unconditional love. Those words I knew in my head so many years became truer than I had ever known: “Perfect love casts out all fear.” And I have found that it is this kind of acceptance which doesn’t leave me in that stuck place, but gives me the encouragement & power to move forward toward healthy change. My marriage died, but life went on & it felt like a richer, more alive kind of life than I had ever known, one not so limited by my crippling fears. So it was that I came to think of this unhappy event in my life as a “severe mercy”. I find it’s good for me to periodically retell the story, if even only to myself.
Hi Louise,
Thanks for sharing this. It really illustrates the point that you can’t just let go of fear. You go for LOVE, and then there’s no more space for fear.
🙂