Fear, its disguises and the nervous system
I’ve been a climber for 30 years and during that time I’ve met fear a number of times. Fear would disappear for weeks on end and then reappear out of the blue it would seem. It would sweep over me suddenly. Or not at all. Or sometimes. Because fear came and went like that I didn’t really understand our relationship very well. But really I only knew fear in its big black cape and none of its other disguises.
And so if I’m really honest sometimes I would not even realise it was fear I was crossing paths with. I was more preoccupied with battling it all away than actually feeling it. Apprehension and nerves would be dismissed – hoping that the act of involving my body on a climb, the feelings would dissipate. More often than not yes, but sometimes absolutely no.
I was pretty good at battling it away most of the time. My love of climbing and stubborn determination would override many situations and such a battle wasn’t always required. On many occasions I’ve felt the thrill of charging above a piece of gear, body & mind moving, all working gloriously together. The excitement would give me a sharpness of thinking and a hungry desire to make the top.
In ‘hit’ mode flashing Endless Flight E56a in Northumberland. Photo: Bob Smith
That was unless a battle was too much and the flood gates opened and every so often upward movement proved completely impossible. Either overtaking me before I’d even left the ground or half way up a climb just to frustratingly shout down ‘take’. Oh the disappointment of saying take – no way could I fall when I felt like that. Oh the disappointment.
Looking back though, so much was hit or miss. And that was uncomfortable to me. I’d dissect the misses but didn’t seem to fully give attention to what contributed to a hit (apart from how much finger strength I had or whether I read the move right or not). My strong shoulders and fingers were far more reliable than anything going on in my head.
I always had a curiosity to find the same reliability within my mind as I found in a training plan. For me, despite trying I couldn’t find the answers in the books I read or the people I spoke to. Perhaps the answers were in front of me? But I couldn’t interpret meaning in just the same way I couldn’t read my emotions.
‘Miss’ after an encounter with fear, just when I didn’t want to - high up way past the crux on an onsight at Terradets, Spain
Curiosity eventually won. Over time, eventually patterns emerged, climbing partners appeared like teachers and I began to learn. Mostly about myself. So many of my teachers have also been those I’ve coached – and you still teach me. Something connected us and still does – an understanding of the same thing that we’re experiencing in its different guises. I’ve pushed myself and you’ve pushed me to find out more. One thing is certain we all have fear one way or another. In climbing, this is normal.
The answers for me personally lay more in my body than my mind. I was so closely identified with managing my thoughts, I was ignoring the clues in my body. The learning in my own mind and body came first. Understanding how the autonomic nervous system works, how we’re all individually wired and shaped by experience came second. No wonder there is no one size fits all approach.
The autonomic nervous system has two divisions: sympathetic and parasympathetic. The names are curious to be honest. There is nothing very sympathetic when we’re in ‘fight or flight’, because when the sympathetic nervous system is fully engaged that’s how we’ll feel: wanting to ‘get out of there’ or ‘scream and shout and have a fit’! That doesn’t mean it’s always negative though – as this state also means ‘action’ – and that’s a good thing. Furthermore when the sympathetic system is overwhelmed ‘freeze state’ kicks in. When the parasympathetic nervous system is engaged we’ll want to do the opposite; rest, relax and digest. This is how we ALL work.
And a human experiences all these states, freely moving within them all the time. Apart from the fact that some of us are more familiar with one state or another and we can get a bit stuck. And along comes climbing to teach us – if we’re up for the challenge it will certainly teach us.
These states all offer a very physical manifestation in our heartbeat, breath, stomach, feelings and emotions. We can learn to read them. Sometimes they are obvious to us. Other times the clues our body and mind are giving us whisper quietly to us. The whispers arrive as gentler sensations in the body arising from ourselves and people and environment around us.
I’ve learned (and am still learning) to listen to the whispers of my nervous system and take them seriously – all of them. The whispers taught me how find a greater range of tools, to breathe through the fears, better regulate my nervous system and from there assert my needs, make decisions from a more grounded place, concentrate better and most of all find a reliability in my mind. I found that reliability, not through control but rather a process where I can find a solution to always meet the fears however they show up.
There is as much to learn from the comfortable whispers as the uncomfortable ones. It’s not all about meeting discomfort. When we get more familiar climbing in regulated relaxed states we’re better equipped to deal with discomfort. Then the latter, the uncomfortable whispers, those we can hear before they shout. Because when these whispers have to shout then it’s most probably too late.
So to connect to our fear in climbing it’s not about getting in a headlock with a fear in a big black cloak. It’s not a battle. It’s a relationship. Fear will take its cape of then and we can learn to climb free.