A Snake


July 25th, 2008, a Friday


How many times do we start a sentence or a thought with "I'm afraid...." or "but what if...".  If you're like me, too many times.  It would be hard to imagine all the things we have been afraid of (that we can't even remember now because the fears never amounted to much), that we are currently afraid of, or that we will be afraid of in the future. 

I'm afraid to go on that trip because what if the plane crashes?  What if I don't have a good time and I spent all that money for worse than nothing?  I'm afraid to divorce my husband because then I will be alone.  I'm afraid to stay married because I am so unhappy.  I'm afraid to quit my job because what if I don't find another one and I run out of money?  I'm afraid if I keep working at this job with a boss who doesn't respect or appreciate me I will never be happy.  I'm afraid to go on a diet because the only thing that really gives me pleasure is eating.  I'm afraid I will be fat the rest of my life.  I'm afraid I will be a bad parent.  I'm afraid I will never have children.  I'm afraid if I try new things I won't like them.   I'm afraid I will do the wrong thing so it's best to just do nothing.  What if Barack Obama really wants to rule the world, not just be President of the United States?

I'm afraid I will be afraid for the rest of my life. 

Fear is paralyzing.  And yet we see it as a safety gauge to prevent us from doing something we perceive to be stupid or ill advised.  When actually fear can prevent us from doing anything at all.  It takes courage to overcome our fears.  Lots of it, sometimes. 

Like for me with snakes.  I am terrified of snakes.  It isn't like I think a snake is going to kill me.  Not like a boa constrictor will wrap itself around me until I am smashed and flattened out and unrecognizable as the little purple bear I used to be.  Or that a giant anaconda will open its huge jaws and swallow me up, thinking wrongly that I am flesh and bones when really I am stuffed with those little beads that won't appeal to Mr. Anaconda at all and the whole meal will have been worth nothing to him.  And I will be swallowed up like Jonah in the tummy of the whale.  See what I mean?  So why am I terrified of snakes if I don't fear for my life?  I don't know.  Ask Dr. Freud.  Who cares?  I just am.  I'm afraid there may be one under my bed or even in the bed.  You know how you hear on the news that a snake came up out of someone's toilet or recently that one that showed up in a washing machine and when the lady put her hand in to get the clothes out she grabbed a big snake instead.  Ooooooohhhhhhh.  It grosses me out just writing about it.  The Littlest Dutch Boy has a snake.  She is very pretty, coral colored, and not too big.  Her name is Hera, named after wife and sister of Zeus (don't ask me how she could be wife and sister both but if you did ask me I would say that Zeus was messed up).  The Littlest Dutch Boy keeps asking me if I will come over to his house and get to know Hera, overcome my irrational fear of snakes.  He says I could hold her and sit with her and then I would see that she isn't really slimy and would never hurt me.  But I just can't do it.  Not yet.  I'm afraid and cannot overcome it. 

I think there is this last notch we have, the last holdout, that says you can't get past this final place of resistance to finally dive into your fears.  Sort of like the high dive that you have never been able to bring yourself to jump off.  It takes that final push.  You have experienced it at some time in your life.  Where you just close your eyes, take a deep breath, and take the leap no matter what the consequences.  It's only water down there.  Most of the time you find that it wasn't so bad and you can easily do it again, and again.  Then you are really glad you did.  But does that really translate to repeating that act of courage the next time something scary comes up.  Maybe we only take the plunge on the safe scary things.  Not the really big ones. 

I don't know.  But I do know that I am kinda tired of being afraid and overprotective of myself.  Now don't go getting all crazy and do something stupid.  But maybe today we could try something we have always been afraid of.  Get past that last holdout of fear that stops us.  We may not like it, or regret that we did it, but at least we did.  I'm gonna call the Littlest Dutch Boy and tell him to introduce me to Hera.  Maybe.

GR