Flights of Fear

I love tastings! Call me yuppie, or uppity, or shee-shee, or whatever - I love enjoying little bits drink and food arranged and paired in such a way as to emphasize the experience of taste and texture rather than the mere satisfaction of animal hunger. I'd rather have a wine and cheese pairing that brings me ecstatic awareness of sensational joy in my capacity of scent, taste, and felt than a huge meal prepared to satiate my physical hunger and induce a food coma. I'd rather have a beer flight than a pint of my favorite stout.

Recently I introduced a group of jobseekers to the concept of "flavors of fear." They ate it up! It wasn't quite 31 flavors, but it was about 18 more than most of them were aware existed. Not that they hadn't experienced them - not at all. Everyone recognized the feelings of awe, concern, horror, reverence, and dread - they just weren't aware that all of these were aspects of fear. We did some exercises around bringing up these different feelings/emotions and "tasting" the fear in them. We appreciated that more often than not these were blends that may even include other feelings/emotions which we have been taught to believe are separate from fear - love, care, anger, arousal. Like fine wines, to consciously experience emotions and their associated biochemical cascades is to notice notes and aromas we don't expect - like leather, tobacco, and apricot from rotten grapes and old wood.

I love turning people on to fear! Fear alerts us to what is important and arouses us to interact with a challenge. Our greatest fears as individuals are our greatest challenges as a species - fear of the unknown, fear of the "other," fear of abandonment, fear of annihilation. Our challenge is to slow down and practice interrupting our reactions to fear so that we may taste what is moving through us. When we can become aware of the flavors of fear we can make choices to respond rather than just react (and there are way more than just fight or flight responses!); we can appreciate what this fear has to tell us rather than just stuff ourselves until we fall asleep.

Dancing on the Edge

Sounds rather cliche and a bit crazy, doesn't it? Still, "dancing on the edge" is an appropriate and powerful metaphor for navigating fear and change.

Regardless of the style, tradition, or level of accomplishment, dancing is ultimately about balance and grace (yes, even popping has grace). Often we think of these aspects as evidencing in quiet and stillness, but that would be a rather tedious dance. Balance happens in dynamic movement, in strength and awareness of the web of influences one is playing upon and being played. The balance and grace of dance happens in passionate movement attained over time and practice - on the edge.

To dance at one's edge means to stretch a bit farther than is comfortable and known, to leap rather than step, to allow the music to sweep you away beyond your control. This is learning, this is change. Whether or not you can - I recommend that you do if at all possible - dance, learning about and how to dance can be a very powerful tool for activating the potency of change and fear.

Think about it - which is more scary: talking in front of a crowd (often cited as the number one fear) or dancing in front of a crowd? (I don't even think they surveyors asked about this one.) Accomplishing this feat, surfing this fear can bring you powerful insight into other challenges and fears. Engaging your body in emotional and psychological efforts means you are using more of your mind, which is definitely not limited to the capacity of your skull.

Bill Buxton, one of Microsoft's top innovators, advises: Always be bad at something that you are passionate about. So perhaps dancing doesn't tap that for you - fine - but find something that engages your whole body - yoga, kayaking, gardening - and brings you passion and an edge. It needs to be something which draws you a bit out of your comfort zone, something in which you could make mistakes and even - gasp! - fail. Experiencing, not just "knowing about," the emotional and psychological events of physical endeavor is how adults, and others, learn best.

We need to remain in awareness of the shared value of "dancing on the edge" as we embark on our adventures: balance and grace. Both are gained through strength and practice; both are illusive unless complemented by mistakes, falls, strains, fear, and passion.