Fear is a wildly fascinating concept. It is entirely subjective, meaning its essence varies from person to person, and it can occur from both experience and lack of experience. For example, say you’re terrified of heights because you had a poor experience at one time, such as falling from an elevated platform; in this scenario, the fear is logical because it stems from an occurrence. As another example, plenty of people are terrified of heights because they do not enjoy the sensation of being so elevated, but haven’t even been in a scenario to experience such extreme heights to explain the fear.
Hence, fear is fascinating.
Fears can also dissipate, or, conversely, develop over time. As a child, I was absolutely petrified of sharks. I couldn’t even tell you why, aside from the fact that I was aware they could kill people, and it was so extreme that once on an airplane, I burrowed my bawling face into my dad’s armpit for the entirety of crossing over an ocean. Now, as an adult, I find sharks to be amazing creatures, and while I certainly wouldn’t ever wish to encounter one, they don’t scare me nearly to the same degree they once did.
I recently had an experience I found to be rather intriguing. I play rugby, and I love the brutality of it, as bad as that sounds. I haven’t felt fear or been fearful of getting injured during a rugby game for a very long time (other than perhaps my first year), up until recently. It is important to note that fear is something that cannot exist in a sport like rugby. You can’t be scared to make hits or be hit, and if you are, hesitation often results in injury. Rugby is quick and violent and unforgiving, and if you’re not ok with pain, it arguably won’t be the best experience overall.
Check back tomorrow for part two.
Photo by Melanie Wasser on Unsplash
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