The Danger of Living in Fear

Because of the way that I walk, there is danger in every step I take. On the other hand, more than 99% of the steps that I take are uneventful. They might not be pretty or graceful, but those steps get me where I want to go. If I thought about the fraction-of-a-percent of steps that end in significant falls, I would be afraid to go anywhere and do anything. That would be a pretty sad existence.

When we let fear consume us, we doom ourselves to a pretty sad existence. Unfortunately, when fear is foisted upon us daily, it’s difficult to remain unaffected. I see a lot of that now as we near the two-year anniversary of COVID-19, and I’m not immune.

When my African safari with my son and dad to celebrate my son’s college graduation was cancelled two years ago due to the pandemic, I was disappointed, but hopeful that we would still be able to go. Two years later, we still haven’t rebooked. It’s hard to get excited about a trip, when regulations and limitations are constantly changing. Rather than dreaming about the trip, I resist thinking about it, because doing so just brings about frustration and disappointment.

Though I’ve been fortunate not to contract COVID-19, at least to my knowledge, it has affected me by casting a shadow of fear over much of what I want to do. That shadow of fear dampens my excitement, which in turn, robs me of the valuable psychological benefit of anticipation.

Studies have shown that the greatest psychological benefit of a travel is not the actual trip itself, but rather, the anticipation of the trip. I was fortunate to travel twice this month, to Nashville for a friend’s wedding and to Cabo for our annual family and friends vacation. Before each trip, my wife asked me if I was looking forward to the trip. Obviously, I was looking forward to the trips, but not with the level of anticipation I would have been, even a year earlier. Even as I was at the airport, I worried that something could disrupt the trip. That worry was especially evident when I need a negative test to return to the United States from Mexico. I spent much of my last full day at a beautiful resort worrying about what would happen if I tested positive.

I don’t want to seem indifferent to the struggles many have experienced due to the pandemic or to compare my travel worries to those struggles; I know people who have lost their lives and livelihoods to the virus. Rather, I want to point out that there are untold psychological ramifications of living in fear and that it’s time that they enter the conversation when pandemic protocols are debated.

I also don’t want to imply that I don’t think caution is needed; I’m double-vaxxed and boosted. Just like I’m careful not to walk in conditions that have a higher probability of falls, I’m careful to limit my exposure to the virus and to minimize the implications if I’m infected, within reason.

Reason is the key here, and it’s personal. I don’t want an indifferent entity who hasn’t walked in my shoes to monitor my steps. There are plenty of “experts” who would have me curtail my activities to minimize my risk, but what kind of existence is that? I know what I can do and what risks I’m willing to take.

I will not stop living the life I want, even if fear has tainted my thoughts. Instead, just like I do with my wobbly steps, I’ll continue to make personal evaluations of risk and to do my best to tamp down fear. Life is just too short and each day too precious, to waste it in worry.