Vulnerability can create fear and our fears can quickly derail us. How does facing fear allow us to move forward so that we live divinely inspired and transformative lives?

Sue Hardman-Conklin

In the beginning I was intrigued by and also afraid of the physical challenge of walking 500 miles. I love to walk, but I’d never walked more than a few hours at a time, and never multiple days in a row, let alone carrying a backpack with all my clothes and gear. Could my mid-50’s body hold up? In years past I’ve suffered from plantar fasciitis, making walking even short distances extremely painful. If that acted up again, the trip would be over. I’d also had a health scare 4 years before that the doctors suspected was MS. Would the stress of a trip like this throw me back into that? Was it worth the risk?

Even bigger than the fear of the physical challenges is the guilt I feel about leaving my family for over 5 weeks. It feels irresponsible to walk away from my duties and leave it all to them to manage. A week or two is one thing – but 5 and a half weeks? Yikes! That’s asking a lot. Besides, it feels selfish to set off on an adventure to “find myself.” Ugh – the sound of that makes me cringe! If only I could turn this into something that feels more noble – like walking to raise money or awareness for a cause – or something I could do on behalf of someone else – or even something I could do with my husband and/or kids. And there it is – the fear in my thinking. The last 27 years of my life have been dedicated to caretaking. During that time I’ve done many things to take good care of myself. But I’m realizing that I have rules around self-care; namely, that’s it’s a great thing to do, so long as it doesn’t inconvenience others. When my self-care inconveniences others, it starts to move into the realm of me feeling selfish. I’ll definitely be inconveniencing my family when I leave for such a long time, so the fear of being selfish raises its ugly head. And while it’s tempting to try and clothe my desire with an overlay of attending to or serving others, I know that’s not honest.

It feels bold – but I’m going to flat out admit that I’m not doing this for anyone except me. I’m waiting to be hit by lightening, shouted out of town, or somehow punished for claiming this. Curiously, nothing bad happens. Hmmm . . . that’s interesting.

Of course I talk to my husband, who will be inconvenienced the most by my absence. I ask how he feels about all this. He is supportive. He says he understands my fears about being selfish, but he questions whether self-care ever becomes selfishness, so long as one is living respectfully of others. Being respectful means having an awareness of other’s needs and desires as well as an awareness of one’s own needs and desires, and engaging each other in a discussion of finding balance between the two.

What he says makes sense, but it doesn’t instantly and completely dissolve my fear. There’s a harsh critic that lives in my head. Can I soften that voice? Be kinder to myself? And if perhaps I allow that kindness, maybe my authentic self will feel safer to let herself be known. That, after all, is what I’m looking to discover on this journey. Whether it’s selfish or not – claiming that this is truly what I desire, without censoring myself, seems to be a first step in becoming more authentic.

Up until the time I leave home I still have occasional bouts of guilt, but once I actually start walking the Camino, the fear of being selfish never comes up. I am awash in feelings of gratitude and joy for the experience.

What I learned from this is that the fear of being selfish has a strong dampening effect on my ability to acknowledge my desires. I wish it didn’t. I wish I could say that I’ve now learned how to overcome that. I haven’t. But I have a new awareness of how I easily censor myself and shut down the desires I have that serve only me. I’m paying attention and when new opportunities arise that serve only me (which by the way keep happening), I’m thinking more carefully about them, not dismissing them out of hand, but exploring them to understand better what’s calling to me.

Fears are so powerful while we’re experiencing them, but often seem silly in retrospect. Walking the Camino was a profound experience, and what really frightens me now is the thought that my fears of failure and being selfish could have stopped me from saying yes to this. It makes me wonder what fears are keeping me from living as fully as I can?

Therese Antony

I was asked to confront what is probably my biggest fear very recently during dinner with a friend. As we ate, I enthusiastically shared my excitement with the pilgrimage project and my delight over the collaborative work with Sue. After sharing some of the details, there was a brief and slightly awkward pause in conversation. They then gently expressed concern over my lack of overall physical conditioning and questioned how I would be able to do it. In their defense, I am significantly overweight and have been struggling with a painful hip, which I have been told will need to be replaced. In response to their concern, I began to outline my plan for weight loss and physical conditioning. I also shared that my surgeon has told me that surgery could be delayed with weight loss and that it is possible to manage the trip on anti-inflammatory pain medication, provided that I am in better condition.

Concern over the physical management of the pilgrimage has been in my mind almost since the first moments of considering it. But, the knowledge that the event is a year away has been reassuring as it provides me with, what I believe to be, ample time to plan and prepare and to make a shift in my psyche and physiology. I optimistically shared this during the conversation, but the response this time was sharper and deeper. “You don’t know that you are going to be able to do it and it is irresponsible to include it as part of SoulBridging’s programming. I would recommend that you pull it out of Soul Bridging’s content and not do it at all.”

I was stunned by this response and could feel my confidence start to crumble. I began to question my decision to participate. This was no longer about just worry or fear of the physical demands of the journey. What the pilgrimage process could provide in understanding soul work was negated when contrasted with a fear that I would fail to complete the journey. What does this mean for me related to my responsibility to Soul Bridging? Is this irresponsible when I cannot guarantee the outcome?

Join the conversation!

How does facing fear allow you to move forward so that you can be transformed? What fears keep you from living as fully as you can? What, or who, holds influence over you and your fear?