The Day that Fear Stole my Presence

I was walking in my woods the other day, the entire landscape covered in ice. The ice was in turn covered by a light dusting of snow and the individual snowflakes were still visible. It was a breathtaking winter morning. I was appreciating the beauty all around me and stopping to take pictures of tiny wonders - a dusting of snow on a spruce tree, the patterns of lichen on tree bark, the ice sculptures made in the stream as the water slowed in the cold overnight. I was fully present, appreciating how the forest has the ability to heal me, tiny step by tiny step, whenever I need it.

I crept carefully through the icy woods, aware of each step as I planted my feet.

And then, out of nowhere came fear.

I had left my coffee pot on the stove, to brew while I was taking my quick morning walk in the forest. I was no more than 100 metres from my house. And yet, I was overcome with fear that because I had taken a few minutes longer than I intended, the coffee pot on the stove would have set my old wooden house alight and engulfed my sleeping 13-year-old son in smoke before I was able to return to switch it off. It was a completely irrational fear. It was fear about a future that was a figment of my imagination. I had set the stove on low, in case I was more than a few minutes. I have smoke detectors to wake sleeping humans in the event of fire, and I was close enough to the house to notice smoke and flames before anyone was engulfed.

But in that moment I let fear steal my presence.

And in that split second where fear eclipsed presence, I slipped on the ice and landed hard on my hip.

This was such a strong lesson for me. When we allow fear about the future to eclipse our awareness and steal our presence, we fall (sometimes literally). It was not the ice that made me fall, it was my lack of awareness and attention to where my feet were placed in the moment. Because my awareness had been consumed by this fear of something in the future that was probably never going to happen, I was no longer able to respond quickly enough to the circumstances of the present to keep myself safe.

Fear about the future is not the same as the fear you feel when you are in danger. That type of fear actually heightens presence and awareness. That type of fear does keep you safe. The fear of a future that hasn’t happened yet is not a friend, it is a thief, stealing our presence and keeping us from peace.

This lesson has me thinking carefully about how to cultivate more presence and calm my fears about the future more effectively. It is hard right now not to be afraid of the future. But the only thing we can control is how we show up in this present moment. The more I remember that, the more likely it is that I will make the right decisions about where to place my next step, and the more likely it is that I will stay upright and moving forward.

It is almost paradoxical in its’ simplicity - placing our attention on the present rather than on our fears about the future keeps us safe.

Staying present and calming fear is easy to say, but harder to do. In my experience, the most useful tool we have as humans for presence is our breath. When all the shit hits the fan, your breath is still there.  It is always with you. You always have the choice to pause and take a breath.  It is the best friend that supports you always and forever and never asks anything from you.

There are many, many options for breath practices that can help calm fear, but really nothing is better than three deep breaths. If you can pause long enough for three deep breaths, that pause can create the space you need to protect your presence from the fear that’s trying to steal it.

Try it now. Three. Deep. Breaths. And then ask yourself, what needs your attention right now?