We are all afraid of different things: falling, commitment, money, or getting hit by a car.  Some of our fears are realistic and useful – I’m afraid every time I cross the street or drive a car.  I think that is appropriate.

But some of our fears hold us back. My fear of heights keeps me from ever standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon and admiring the view. Although, I will enjoy the vista in someone else’s photos, or from an airplane – isn’t that the way the Grand Canyon is supposed to be seen?

I used to think that all of my fears were universal, until I saw a video of men in hard hats welding steel girders on a skyscraper under construction more than sixty floors in the air. These workers were actually walking on steel beams where a single slip would send them to certain death.  Ouch!

I wondered, “How can anyone work five or six hundred feet above the ground, and walk around without a net?”

Then it struck me – my fear of heights is inside me, but not inside them.  They’re not afraid of heights.  I am.

Any specific fear that you or I have is not universal. Our fears are completely personal, and spring from our own genetics and life experience.

My mother tended to overdo fear of death.  “If you eat food which tastes bad you will get food poisoning and die.  If you don’t wear your boots in the rain you will catch pneumonia and die.  If you don’t look both ways before crossing the street a car will hit you and you will die.”

Thanks, Mom.  To this day I’m suspicious of food (hint:  food can taste pretty darn good and still give you food poisoning), and I still look both ways whenever I cross a street, which seems reasonable.  But I’ve never been actively afraid of my own death. Maybe Mom did me a favor and desensitized me to the idea by overusing it as a boogeyman.

The good news is that if a fear is personal to you, then you can do something about it.  A few years ago I was riding a tram down from the top of a ski slope.  I intentionally stood at the front of the tram and stared directly down at the ground for the entire ride.  I actually enjoyed the ride.  But it didn’t stick.

After the tram I tried my newly discovered courage on a zip line in Costa Rica. I gamely hiked to the starting point and climbed up the tower.  The guide strapped me into a harness after everyone else in my family had already zipped away.  Then I looked down.

This was the first of eight separate zip lines.  Maybe that’s why they called it “Zip Line Heaven.”  You couldn’t just do the first one, you had to complete all eight. As I was about to step into the abyss I realized that I would have to repeat this incredible experience seven times.  No thanks.  I asked the leader to let me out of the harness, I climbed down to earth, and I walked back to the parking lot to wait for my fearless family.

I should mention that even though I have overcome some of my fears (such as public speaking) there are others I can live with.  I don’t do roller coasters or zip lines.  And I only do trams if there is enough social pressure. I also have a fear of disappointing people.

Alan

This morning I enjoyed watching a TV program – World of Dance.  I seldom dance because I think I’m not very good at it, but I like to watch it from the comfort of my chair.  (It’s the same with golf).

In the program, one of the judges counseled a woman before her performance.   “Your dancing is great, but just before a lift you hesitate.  You stop to prepare yourself.  Change that.  Just let yourself fall into your partner’s arms and trust him to catch you.”

She did.  Their dancing was perfect.

At age 28 I denied that anyone had better ideas than I did.  Today I know that many people have better ideas, and I often rely on the ability, experience, and judgment of my friends, family, and colleagues.  I found wisdom in the judge’s words.  These days when I like a statement I consider how it might apply to my own life.

In the 1970’s I participated in many “encounter” groups.  One of the “trust” exercises was to relax and fall backward into the waiting arms of others.  A few members refused to even try.  Others let go and just did it.  I took the middle ground.  I trusted the group’s intent, but not their ability — because I weighed more than 250 pounds at the time.  So I fudged.  The few times I fell backward I remained fully prepared to catch myself.

After watching the dance show this morning I decided to apply the judge’s advice to my own emotional life.  “Just let yourself fall into your partner’s arms and trust her to catch you.”

I haven’t often done this.  It doesn’t feel entirely safe.  And as with the physical, I have taken the emotional middle ground.  To paraphrase Ronald Reagan, “Trust, but don’t let yourself get hurt.”

Or as Hamlet might say, “To fully trust or not to fully trust, that is the question.”

I’m not going to suggest that you or I emotionally trust every person every hour of every day.  That could be a road to regret.  But always playing it “safe”, seems an equally certain street to separation, both emotional and, eventually, physical.

The key to trusting your parents, your partner, or your best friend is to try it out.  When you need emotional support ask for it.  Then fall into his or her arms.

I like to take care of people.  Why should you and I deprive all of those who love us of the opportunity to take care of us as well?

Alan

We all have many preferences.  My preferred color is red.  Years ago my wife preferred blue, but she has improved.  Now she likes red and pink.  One of my favorite foods is blue cheese.  Many people can’t stand the stuff.  I occasionally try a sip of white wine, but alcohol contains lots of calories wrapped in a horrible taste (notably red wine), and doesn’t relax me in any way.  For some, wine is the focus of their lives.

We live out our preferences by acting on them.  I drive a red car, enjoyed blue cheese on toast for breakfast this morning, and when I was young lost a number of friends because my wife and I failed to serve alcohol with dinner on several occasions.

I imagine that few people share all three of my preferences.

But I do have one strong preference (or bias) that I would like to persuade you to share.  This is my bias in favor of saying “yes.”

My three older children are now in their fifties with families of their own, but I still remember when they were three, or five, or fifteen, with nothing better to do than ask me for things.

“Daddy, Daddy, I’d like some blue jeans.”

“Shut up kid.  Red jeans look better.”

“Daddy, Daddy, I want some Cheerios.”

“Shut up kid and eat your blue cheese and marmalade.”

“Daddy, Daddy, can I have a sip of wine?”

“Sure, kid. Ten years after I die.”

Those are fantasies, of course.  But I’m making the point that, all day long, my kids asked me for things.  It wore me out.  Our conversations became shorter and shorter.

“Daddy, Daddy . . . “

“No.”

Just like my own dad before me, I don’t like to turn people down.  My dad’s style was to get so angry when I asked for something that I finally stopped speaking and started sneaking.  His style worked, but I never thought it was optimal, especially from a kid’s point of view.

So, many years ago, I decided to change the script.

“Daddy, Daddy . . . “

“Yes to whatever it is you want.”

“Huh?”

“I trust your judgment, so I say “Yes.”

“But I didn’t even tell you what I wanted.”

“I trust your judgment.”

After they started to believe me, something strange and wonderful happened.  First, my kids and I enjoyed a much closer relationship.  Even better, their judgment improved.  They stopped asking for the sun when all they really needed was the moon.  More and more they learned to trust their own instincts instead of trying to discover mine and argue with me about them.

Best of all, I consciously began saying “Yes” to my wife, my friends, and my business associates.  We all enjoyed each other’s company a lot more, and “Yes” opened my life to many superb experiences.  For example, when my daughter invited me to be her “date” for a friend’s wedding last Saturday I said “yes.”  We enjoyed a wonderful day together.  And the wedding, on a small Laguna beach, was absolutely delightful.

I’m not suggesting that you say “yes” to everything.  I do suggest, however, that unless you have a good reason to say anything else, you set your bias, as I do, on “Yes.”

You will love your new self.

Yes?

Alan