As much as I fear nature, I revere and love it even more. Indeed, not even my greatest outdoor-related fears can keep me indoors for long, which is a good thing. It means that I’ll always have a lot of drive to get over my nature-related fears, so that I can intentionally take pictures of bees and wasps carrying out one of the world’s most important jobs: pollinating our earth.
More importantly, I desperately want to hunt, fish, hike, camp, etc. without my fears getting in the way of me doing them. After all, I’m at my best and happiest when I’m enjoying the great outdoors. My favorite memories come from the days I spent out-of-doors, either in the wilderness or on the farm. And I always return home from the woods a much better, more patient version of myself.
But in the moment, even when I’m locked, loaded, and hunting for big game with some of the most badass outdoorsmen I know, I still get spooked very often. Sometimes, I even want to quit with tears in my eyes as I fight back the urge to panic. But, those moments of pure terror followed by the satisfaction of pushing through them, turn into cherished memories that will last forever in my mind. In turn, my fear response is slightly diminished each time. If I do the scary thing enough times and realize that I was never in any danger when encountering that scary thing, perhaps the fear will go entirely extinct.
In other words, the only way to bring my fears to heel is to expose myself to them. The longer I wait to expose myself to a fear, the worse that fear becomes because my mind has a tendency to catastrophize about what might happen. I’ve been undergoing exposure therapy all my life, with varying levels of success. For me to successfully encounter something I’m afraid of and come away with a bit more confidence in myself, I have to surround myself with the right people for the job, as I can’t face my fears alone. At least, not initially. Why? Because my body, and to an extent, my mind, work hand-in-hand to give me every reason to avoid what makes me fearful, no matter how ridiculous my fear may be. I need someone else around to push me forward as I face my fear, so I don’t instantly run away from it.
My great uncle Courtney was the first person in my life to figure out how to successfully help me face my fears. After being a law enforcement ranger for over forty years and literally living like a mountain man his whole life, not even a bluff-charging grizzly can scare that guy. Naturally, having him around when facing one of my many fears (both rational and irrational), has helped me tremendously in the long run.
For instance, I’m not afraid of heights, except for when it comes to climbing. I have no problem hiking along the edge of the hogback in the valley and staring down at the cars on the road 300+ feet below me. I have no issues going off-roading in the mountains with my dad. And I absolutely loved going on the Raven’s Rim zipline in Moab with my mom and little brother. But climbing (or worse, dangling off the side of a fucking cliff) is a hell no from me.
Unless I’ve got my great uncle Courtney encouraging me, of course.
