Change is hard even when we need or want to live life differently. We are hardwired to fear the unknown. Working through the transition can be difficult but often it is possible.
Neuroscientist Dr. Dean Burnett writes about our brain's fear response to the idea of change. He is the author of the Idiot Brain and the Happy Brain.
Motivational speaker Tim Ferriss, talks about the importance of fear-setting rather than goal-setting in this Ted Talk.
Therapy and Psychoanalysis can be useful tools for working through the pros and cons of life changes we are considering.
Ingmar Bergman's film Cries and Whispers features loudly ticking clocks that were inspirational in the making of this episode.
@garwboy
@tferriss
Fear of Change
Hello and welcome to Uplifted. My name is Meg Luther Lindholm. And I welcome you on this journey from stories of adversity towards new insights for a better life. Today’s step on the journey is called Fear of Change.
So many pivotal moments in my life have involved a leap into the unknown. Maybe it was a move from one home to another. Or a trip to a faraway place. Or leaving school or a job without knowing what was next.
Each of these life changes has always been accompanied by a strong dose of fear. Put into words the fear of change revolves around questions like: Why am I doing this? What if this new situation totally back-fires? And the hardest one to answer - what if I end up worse off than I am now?
There’s a protective function to these questions. We have evolved to be careful. Cautious. Our brains are wired to fear the unknown. The step off the cliff into the abyss. And there are still times when erring on the side of caution is absolutely the right thing to do. But in so many instances – our fears can paralyze us and keep us in situations that make us unhappy.
I remember the first time I faced tremendous inner conflict about a needed life change. I was a sophomore at a rather upper crusty liberal arts college. I wasn’t happy because I felt like I was spinning my wheels academically. Every day I went from my dorm to my classes. From my classes to the library. From the library to the dining hall, back to the library, back to my dorm. This revolving door of effort felt meaningless. The sky in my world was solid gray. I wanted out. I wanted to leave the academic treadmill for life in the real world. But I was afraid.
I also felt flawed. The idea of leaving college felt like an admission of failure. Why couldn’t I just put up and shut up? Be grateful. Stop whining. On top of my own doubts there was tremendous parental pressure to stay. I still remember the anger on my father’s face the day I told him over lunch at a restaurant that I wanted to leave college. You’ll never go back. You’ll ruin your life he said looking like he wanted to throw his plate of food at the wall. I will go back I said meekly. And, I meant it. But with only foresight to guide me – how could I be certain? I was rattled enough by his anger and my doubts to seek help from a counselor at my college.
The woman who met me it her office was thin and austere. And her office was as stark as she was. The only objects in the room were a sofa on which I sat. And a chair across the large room on which she sat. There was a small table with a box of tissues next to me. And a small table with a clock on it next to her. The shades were drawn. The room was dark. I felt like I had been catapulted into an Ingmar Bergman movie. If you’ve watched his films, you probably know that there are scenes where all you hear is the sound of a clock tick-tocking loudly into an otherwise silent room.
All that was missing in my sessions with the college counselor was the sound of her clock ticking loudly into the silences between us. Because in true Freudian fashion the psychologist said very little. She wanted me to do all the talking. She wanted me to free associate about my angst. Did my desire to leave school connect to a traumatic childhood experience or a fear of obesity? I have no idea. All I know is how odd it felt odd to pour out my heart out to a stranger. I felt like I was dangling on a rope. And she, the therapist, sat staring at me from the other side of the abyss. But on the very big plus side she listened to everything I said without judgment.
One day in her spare way she pointed the way forward. She said you’re like a swimmer poised to dive. Your toes are curled over the edge of the pool. Your arms are over your head. Your whole body is curved towards the water. You’re leaning closer and looking down, but you can’t dive in. And in that moment, my decision clicked into focus. She had lasered away my confusion and doubt with a metaphor. And I knew what I had to do. I had to dive into that unknown body of water.
Why is it that even when everything inside us tells us what we want, feel and need to do we still hold back? We question ourselves. We come up with 101 reasons why we shouldn’t do what we know we need or want to do – whether it’s leaving a toxic relationship or a toxic job or a toxic – you fill in the blank. Of course, there can be very high stakes – like a lack of money to leave a relationship that provides financial support. Still there are many situations we can change - yet we don’t. Like someone on oxygen who won’t quit smoking. Why not? Dean Burnett is a neuroscientist who has written about our brain’s fear response to the idea of change. He says “In an evolutionary sense, the brain doesn’t like uncertainty. Anything uncertain is potentially a threat.” We live by that old saying - better the devil we know than the one we don’t.
There are different ways of dealing with fear. For some, taking small steps in the direction of change works. Like looking at homes for sale in a place one wants to move to. For others like author and motivational speaker Tim Ferris, it helps to focus more on the fear side of the equation.
TF: In simple terms this is visualizing the worst-case scenarios in detail that you fear – preventing you from taking actions so that you can take action to overcome that paralysis. My problem was monkey mind, super loud, incessant. Just thinking my way through problems doesn’t work. I needed to capture my thoughts on paper so I created a written exercise that I call fear setting.
This fear setting exercise that Ferris recommends consists of making lists. In the first list we write down all the bad things we fear might happen if we make the desired change. Next to each fear we write down how we can address it. Like in my case - what if I never returned to college? Well, I could work. Or I might find a job training program. Eventually my motivation for school might return. If it didn’t then I probably wasn’t meant to be in college in the first place.
Ferris says it’s also important to consider the physical and emotional cost of inaction.
TF: What we don’t often consider is the atrocious cost of the status quo, not changing anything. So, you should ask yourself if I avoid this action or decision what might my life look like in 6 months, 12 months, 3 years. Any further out it starts to seem intangible. And really get detailed, again emotionally, financially, physically, whatever. And when I did this it painted a terrifying picture. I was self-medicating. My business was going to implode at any moment if I didn’t step away. My relationships were fraying or failing. And I realized inaction was no longer an option for me.”
And I realized the same was true for me. The college counselor from the Ingmar Bergman movie I was in helped me decide to leave college. And, after two years out in the world I realized that I did very much want to return to college. But it couldn’t be the same one. I ended up transferring to a large state university which was a much better fit for me.
You can look online and find lots of videos and Ted Talks about dealing with the fear of change. I’ll post some links in the show notes on my upliftedpodcast website. And if you’re struggling with fear around a change you’re considering – know that most everyone of us can relate. And that change - if not now – then maybe down the road – might be possible.
Thank you for joining me on this step of the Uplifted journey. I’m Meg Luther Lindholm. Please subscribe to Uplifted on Apple podcasts or wherever you listen. You can also subscribe to my blog on Substack. You’ll find a link on the Uplifted website. And if you like what you hear I would so appreciate your sharing it. Until next time, take care of yourself and each other.