Wooden Indians

When I was little, we used to go eat at an outdoor fish and chips place in Santa Barbara. There was a life size wooden statue of an Indian in a full feathered headdress...and I was terrified of him. (Yes, I know the politically correct term is "Native American", but I grew up afraid if a wooden Indian. It was the eighties.)

At some point, my mom told me that to get over my fear, I needed to walk up to him, knock on the wood, and say "I'm not afraid of you". That became part of the ritual any time we went to eat there. It is the first lesson I remember on facing my fears. 

Lately, I've had huge problems with anxiety. I have anxiety medication that I'm taking far more often than I like, but it keeps me much more functional. I'm learning to recognize the physical signs of anxiety, (knotted stomach, tight jaw, rushing pulse, whooshing sound in my ears), and now, finally, realizing that sometimes "anxiety" is another word for "fear". 

My world is suddenly filled with giant wooden Indians.

Often, what I need to calm the anxiety is information. I need to eliminate the fears of the unknown possibilities, and work with what is really going on. (Turn on the light and let me see that it is just a statue, not someone waiting to attack me.)

Sometimes, the information I need is already inside me. I need to stop, look at what I'm afraid of and fully admit it. Sometimes I need to write it out, so I have it in front of me. Sometimes, I need to tell someone. Sometimes, I just need to tell myself...repeat it over and over in my head. Admitting it seems to relax the knots in my stomach, at least for a time.

I am a grown-up, but I still need to walk up to those Indian statues, knock on them, and say, with confidence, "I am not afraid of you".

And someday, maybe I'll even believe it.