The Zen of Facing Near-Tragedy
Good things happen when you face the worst things that can happen.
Sometimes I really hate bees.
Like the other day when one flew right into my face and bounced around inside my sunglasses. My immediate instinct, of course, was to swat it away violently.
Problem was, at this same time I was heading down a steep dirt trail on my mountain bike.
I swatted at it with my right hand. Simultaneously, my left hand jerked my handlebar backwards.
I knew I was going down. I just didn’t know where yet. As I looked up I realized I was not going down on the trail, but off the side of the trail. I was riding on a small mountain, but a mountain nonetheless. So this was essentially a cliff. And I had no idea what was waiting for me below, as I careened off the edge.
Funny thing how the mind works. Everything got real slow. I wasn’t panicked in any way. In fact, I was curious.
What was down there? How long can I stay on my bike as I fly off the edge? Should I even try to stay on? Or should I just bail? How far down will I end up?
The cliche is true. When you face dire situations like this, everything slows down. This all happened in the manner of seconds, but my inner conversation felt so much longer.
The counter-intuitive thing is, I became completely calm. There was absolutely nothing I could do about this. So my brain said, “fuck it, let’s just relax and see what happens.” My body went limp.
I flew off the bike, landed in a bunch of scrub brush and slid through that brush about 20 or 30 feet. My bike was below me, the handlebars jammed in the direction my left hand forced me into.
Once I stopped sliding, I took stock of the situation. My bike was about 5 feet below my feet. I was scratched up on my arms, back and legs. My upper chest hurt where, more than likely, I hit my handlebars as I flew off the bike.
But that was it. I could move all my limbs. No major bleeding. I could get up.
I grabbed my bike. Crawled up the hill. No one was around and clearly no one saw me. I put my headphones back on, headed back down the trail and finished my ride.
It was a good ride. Actually, a great ride. I lost my water bottle, but I gained something so much more valuable. A small refill of inner calm.
Think about people that regularly face fear head on– “adrenaline jockeys” or “thrill seekers“ or whatever you want to call them. It’s not really about the thrill. It’s about seeking the peace, the calmness that is on the other side of the thrill. (By the way, for clarification, in no way would I put myself into the ”adrenaline jockey” category).
It’s not really about the thrill. It’s about seeking the peace, the calmness that is on the other side of the thrill.
There is serious wisdom to be found when you throw yourself headfirst into potential harm’s way.
Fear grows through expectation and anticipation. From that fear comes anxiety. And from anxiety comes paralysis. And by doing nothing the fear grows larger. The downward spiral begins.
Fear can only be fought head-on. You can’t beat it by reading about it, thinking about it, strategizing about it or over-analyzing about it. To beat it, you have to face it. And fight it.
Your body, and your mind, are instinctually prepared to face potential catastrophe. When I crashed, I didn’t have time to be afraid. I went head first into it, and my mind and body took control. I didn’t tell my mind to slow down, my mind just slowed down. I didn’t tell my body calm down and go limp, it just did.
In our business we face fear every day. Will I come up with a great idea? Will I come up with a great idea in time? Will we be able to convince someone that idea is great? Will we win this pitch? Will we hold onto this client? Will I hold onto my job?
The advertising and marketing business is about as stable as a head coaching job in the NFL (or if you’re not a sports fan, the simile would be a job in the Trump administration). Holding a job or maintaining a client relationship beyond a few years is possible, but its rare and getting more rare.
When you run the business, holding onto the best talent is just as hard. There’s also the fear of holding on too long to employees that just aren’t a good fit.
It’s really easy to get anxious about all of that stuff. So you avoid it. You avoid making hard decisions or putting yourself in harm’s way due to fear of the possible outcome. You don’t want to disappoint someone, or you’re worried they’re going to say bad things about you.
Maybe you don’t work as hard on a project, so you have an excuse if it doesn’t go well. Maybe you avoid talking to a client because you’re worried they might leave and you don’t want them to tell you that. Maybe you avoid talking directly to a really talented employee because you’re worried they might leave. Or maybe you avoid talking to an employee because, while you know they should leave, it’s really hard to fire someone.
As an only child my mom was very protective. Anything that carried potential danger, she wanted me to avoid. If she had her way, I would wear a helmet every day. Not just when riding a bike, like all the time.
As a parent, I get it.
We want to protect our kids from anything physically or emotionally dangerous.
The irony is that allowing them to do things that could potentially do them harm is exactly what that prepares them to deal with the world in the most positive possible way. It’s what gives us the ability to cope, to adapt, to avoid anxiety and push through. And to succeed.
Anxiety builds when you don’t take action. Fear leads to avoidance. And then, in it’s own self-fulfilling way, the worst thing does happen.
Anxiety builds when you don’t take action. Fear leads to avoidance. And then, in it’s own self-fulfilling way, the worst thing does happen. More often than not, inaction actually guarantees a negative outcome.
If you take action, something bad might happen.
However, I am certain of this: taking action, doing something, moving forward and facing the world head-on is also the only way to make great things happen.
About me: I’m a Partner/Creative Director at Teak in San Francisco. I’m from Colorado, moved to Chicago for 8 years then settled down in San Anselmo, California (the birthplace of mountain biking) with my wife to raise two amazing kids. I’m a huge fan of the Chicago Cubs, Denver Broncos and Peet’s Coffee.
