Fear sucks, and a lot of things make me afraid.
Last week, my wife delivered our firstborn son. We were afraid the whole night. We were afraid of the nurse who put her whole hand up where the doctor just stuck fingers. We were afraid of dropping him; we were afraid he was pulling a hunger strike when he wouldn't eat; we were afraid he'd pee in his own face if we didn't wrap the diapers right. In the first few days, we grasped just how many things could go wrong with a baby.
The last couple days, we haven't been so afraid. He eats, sleeps, cries and doesn't look anything like a Chucky Doll. We're more practiced in the essentials and are surrounded by people who know how to tell us we're idiots nicely.
Once again, I relearned an important life lesson: Fear serves no useful purpose and life always goes on.
I don't know how many times I'll have to relearn that, but it will probably be many more.
One of my family's favorite movies is "Defending Your Life," with Albert Brooks. The main character is hit by a bus and, in heaven, is required to defend his life. The judges are looking to see how well he overcame fear. The prosecutor shows scenes in which the defendant made bad choices based on fear. The defense shows scenes of bravery. If he fails, he's reincarnated. If he succeeds, he "moves on."
The older I get, the more profound this moral becomes. Yet I still feel fear every new semester--each new week, in fact. Trying to be helpful, people often encourage others to apply for things by saying, "What's the worst they could say? No?"
I don't know about anybody else, but being told "no" scares the meconium out of me.
What keeps me going is the fact that I'm proud of every time I ignored fear and I regret every time I stepped back because of it.
In the eighth grade, I dropped out of wrestling on the Wednesday of Hell Week. I was at the meeting where the coaches explained Hell Week, but I didn't understand because I was so surprised they were allowed to say "hell" in a junior high. So I dropped out because I was afraid I couldn't handle another day. I'd already completed three of the five days when I walked out.
When I returned from my mission about four years ago, I had trouble dating. I'd avoided it in high school to save money and wasn't sure how forgiving women would be as I got back in the swing of things.
It took me almost a year to ask a girl out, but I finally saw this girl who was so hot in her high-heel boots that lust overcame fear. She said yes, then gave me a rain check, then said no, then got married. That sucked, but I didn't care because after having asked her out, asking other women became easier.
My wife was afraid of taking the GRE because she'd feel stupid if she got a bad score. Well, she did get a bad score, and she did feel stupid. But now it's over. She didn't let fear stop her from trying, and now she's able to make decisions based on facts instead of "what ifs."
My wife and I both have friends who seem to have given up on both dating and school. I think fear has gotten the best of them. Nearly 10 years of struggle and frequent failure are tough to overcome.
Looking back at my own life, the pain of failure went away, but the guilt of having not tried because I was afraid still haunts me. Rejection sucks, but wimping out is a wound that never heals.
So apply for scholarships, apply for graduate schools, ask your crush out and go for that job interview. Nothing comforts the sting of failure like the feeling of triumph that comes from being brave. And unless you drive under the influence, life will always go on.
