I was attending one of Jon Acuff’s events that he was doing for the launch of his great new book Soundtracks that I am currently enjoying in his voice. One of the attendees asked him how to overcome fear of doing something new. He answered so eloquently that the question itself is defective. We never actually overcome fear, fear will always be there, but the real question is: how do we do move forward through fear? How do we do something while still being scared?

One prominent answer that comes to mind is Elizabeth Gilbert’s advice to talk to your fear and tell it that it may come for the ride, but it may never drive.

Read on.

In a podcast interview she said:

“You, fear, are part of this family and you have a place here and you’re just as much a part of the family as creativity is. You’re just as much part of the family as longing and all the other human emotions. I will never tell you to leave. You get to be in the minivan with the rest of the family. I just can’t let you drive because you’re seven years old. You’re too little. You’re not allowed to drive. You can be with us, but you’re going to have to sit in the back with the other kids: anxiety, panic, terror, all of them.”
-Elizabeth Gilbert

In her book Big Magic she said:

“It isn’t always comfortable or easy—carrying your fear around with you on your great and ambitious road trip—but it’s always worth it, because if you can’t learn to travel comfortably alongside your fear, then you’ll never be able to go anywhere interesting or do anything interesting. And that would be a pity, because your life is short and rare and amazing and miraculous, and you want to do really interesting things and make really interesting things while you’re still here.”
-Elizabeth Gilbert

Liz also recommends writing a letter to fear :

When I’m feeling particularly shaky and unsure of myself. I give my fear a chance to express itself, formally, in writing. I ask my fear, “What are you actually terrified about, in this situation?”
And I make an effort of listening, with respect.
(It’s amazing how seldom we do this — listen to our fear, with respect. We’re always trying to punch it in the face, or kick its ass, or run away from it. But we seldom let it speak.)
I’m always amazed by what comes up. Often, I think I know what I’m afraid of, but when my fear is given a chance to actually speak, I’m surprised at what the real issue is.
The other thing I keep learning, when I let my fear have a chance to make its case, is that my fear is not (contrary to how it often feels) BOTTOMLESS.
Fear and anxiety can feel like they have infinite depths, like they are afraid of EVERYTHING, but usually they are just afraid of 2 or 3 very specific things, once you look closely.
And sometimes those 2 or 3 three things are pretty reasonable. Usually, the letter that my fear writes to me is quite short, and very precise.
And once I see what those 2 or 3 issues are, what I’m actually afraid of…well, now we can talk about it. Like adults. Like friends.
And that’s when I can write a letter back to fear, thanking it for its thoughts and contributions, but gently explaining what we are going to do now that all the information has been reported.
…
Your fear should always be allowed to have a voice, and a seat in the vehicle of your life. But whatever you do — don’t let your fear DRIVE.

Isn’t she brilliant!?

More about fear in the next post.