Fear is like this big grey cloud living on the edge of our vision. You know it’s there. You know you don’t want to meet it. And you run. Sometimes physically. Usually mentally. Ignoring it. Drowning it out with an addiction (drugs, alcohol, food, sex, Netflix). Anything to keep from acknowledging there is a heart-pounding, big, scary, hairy something that keeps you up at night. Those moments when your body finally relaxes, and your brain gets caught off-guard and the fear creeps in like mist through the open cracks.

What if my child has a horrible accident?

What if I get fired?

What if I get cancer?

What if I fail?

And the tendrils of the thought whispers across our brain; a horrific image like a nightmare materializes. And the fight or flight reaction whips into action pummeling the thought away. NO. No, I do not want to think about that. I do not want to think about that. It’s not going to happen. No. No. No.

Do you want to know how to face this fear? And win the battle?

I learned this sage piece of advice from my mother. It’s a simple two-part question. It came about when my son (then 8 years old) was waking with horrible nightmares about his younger (then 3 years old) brother being randomly attacked in the street. His brother would be lying on the ground and he couldn’t wake him up. My son would sob, and I would hold him, gently rocking, and reassure him that his baby brother was just fine, and it was only a dream. I found the images disturbing as well. And they kept resurfacing, repeatedly, several nights in a row. 

My husband and I were at a loss on what to do. I literally called my mother (yes, I am a grown 40+ woman) late in the night and said, “Help.” And this is what she said to my son.

WHAT IF?

“Ok, what if that horrible thing happened. What would you do?”

And then, my son’s next sob caught in his throat and he paused. What would he do? He said he didn’t know. He thought he would run home.

My mother said, “No, if you can, you wouldn’t leave sight of your brother. First, you would run to the closest house that answers the doorbell and make them call 911 (112 in the Netherlands).”

Next came the second part of the question.

AND THEN?

“I don’t know.”

“You would have them call your parents.”

“I don’t know the number.”

“Okay, that’s the first thing you learn tomorrow. And then what would you do?”

“Stay with Finn.”

“Yes, you would stay with Finn. And the ambulance would come. They would take him and you to the hospital and your parents would come. And the doctors would take care of your brother and help him, and he would be ok.”

Now. I don’t know if all of this is correct procedure or how it would actually happen. But what she did, is make him face his fear. Stop the anxiety and let it be real. Just for a moment. Examine the situation. Not ignore it or pretend that it would never happen, but actually deal with the fear. 

What if? Ok, the worst has happened. 

And then? Now, what are the next steps that you would actually be forced to take in that situation and how would you resolve it? Also, what are the potential things you could actually do (memorize your parent’s phone numbers) to be prepared should the worst ever happen?

He finally went to sleep. And never, ever had that dream again.

I think this is one of the most beautiful gifts my mother has ever given me. It’s a simple lesson. A two-part question that can be applied in so many situations. Not just for imaginary nightmares. I challenge you to apply this to any big fear looming in the shadows.

What if we lose all our money?

And then…Is there family that can help? Would you go to a friend? What are the community resources or government resources that you could research? 

What if I’m attacked in the parking lot? 

And then…Scream. Put your keys through your fingers and scratch at his eyes. Kick him hard in the balls and run. Never, ever go to a second location. Crash the car.

What if lose my job?

And then…Apply for workers compensation. Dust off your resume. Work your network. Find a new one. Seek support from the people who care about you.

What if I get cancer?

And then…Take a deep breath. It doesn’t mean you’re going to die tomorrow. Get all the scans, all the information, second opinions if you don’t like the first ones. Make a plan for support with everything (kids, house, cooking, etc.) Call in all your chips with family and friends, you will need them. Immediately tell your work and go on medical leave as soon as you can. Your sole focus is now healing and spending time with loved ones.

What if the plane crashes?

And then…you have about 30 seconds to hold on to anyone you love. And then…it’s black. So, live your best life now and appreciate all the moments, big and small.

The checkmate move is acceptance. It’s accepting that the big, scary, hairy thing could actually happen and knowing that you’ve thought it through and have the tools / knowledge at hand or a plan to face it.

You are prepared. Bring it on fear. We got this.