A few months ago my son got lost at the beach. So lost that we had to call 911. The next month, my daughter was incoherent, burning up with fever, and ended up in the ER. I started a long detailed blog post about those events, but in usual form, I didn't finish it. It felt cathartic to write out what had happened, but it didn't feel good to read it.
The purpose of writing it was to acknowledge my deepest fear. The fear of losing a child. It is a fear that lives in all parents and motivates us to fight endlessly for our children's survival, but it is not a sentence that we say out loud. I feel that many people like me, fear the fear of that fear. But what is that? Fearing the fear that is caused by a fear? I have had enough cognitive behavioral therapy to know that that is load of crap and I have been challenging that fear recently.
After facing two situations where losing a child became a real possibility, the retaining wall I had built around that fear began crumbling. And I was left facing it. It is possible to lose a child. It is possible for me to lose my child.
When it was my turn to step to that line of possibility, I felt myself at a decision. While my breath escaped me and heart raced, my mind was on high alert and working beyond normal bounds. In both crises I went into action recalling all the tips and tools offered to me over a life of experiences. I remembered in blaring clarity to activate a team of people to help find my son. I found myself laying in a cold bath with my daughter, yet I don't remember undressing or turning on the tap. Each word of advice from parents before me was accessible and ready for use.
I felt fear in those moments, but I also felt this great perseverance. There was no stopping or giving up or thinking of myself, there was only action and energy and focus. In both of these situations, the fear that has haunted me since my first positive pee test, stood before me. And while it existed as rapid breathing and shaky fingers, it had no power over my mind.
To have both situations resolve with the best possible outcome has brought me gratefulness and joy- two things that are opposite of fear. Those feelings have stayed with me. They forced me out of "what if" and into now. And I look back wondering- how much of my life has been lived in "what-if"?
My husband has been on a journey with mediation and mindfulness for the last year. I have taken on some of the ideas and practices, and there is a quote I recently heard that has stuck with me. A small truth about our projections, our fears, and our doubts. Something that comes from a place of reflection. Like for me- encountering my fear and then looking at it square on.
"We suffer more in imagination that reality."- Seneca
There are poignant things to be said here, but I would fail to do them justice. I want to you encourage you if you read this at a time of fear. You won't feel this way forever.
