The Tiger We Know Is Better Than the Tiger That Might Be?

How the fear of what could go wrong robs us of the joy of discovery and the realization of what could be.

Photo: Livingston's Baobab- Liwonde National Park, Malawi

A friend of mine recently came to the conclusion that she needed to make some major life changes to recover her health. A young, and by most accepted measures of the term, healthy woman in her 30’s. She was doing all the right things, eating all the right foods, getting all the exercise and sleep one ought to (most of the time), while doing a job she found meaningful and interesting with coworkers she enjoyed. And yet…all the while, her endocrine system (the one that responsible for, among other things, managing stress…and triggering that fight or flight response we hear so much about) was throwing up its hands in protest and saying, “Enough!”

Her ‘visibly’ healthy self was developing physical symptoms to warn her of the need to address psychological/emotional stressors which had been left unattended for far too long. After a mixture of western and eastern medicinal practitioners both concurred that her body was under the distinct impression that she was fighting or fleeing from saber- tooth tigers on a fairly regular basis, she realized she needed to take a step back. She made the brave decision to resign from her job (without having a new one queued up) and set off on the very important work of finding a place, not necessarily free of tigers, but at least free of ones that seemed to be in the habit of picking fights and chasing people all the time.

It was in the early stages of her search for such a place that we found ourselves chatting on a random Thursday. Her search resonated with me because I, too, have been on the search for a place with less aggressive tigers, for many of the same reasons. I’ve known for a while that having a ‘real’ job, is not (healthy) for me, so I’ve been working on creating my own path for the past year. Though (most days) I feel good about the choice, it’s been a roller coaster, with no clearly marked path. Recently my own anxiety about that unmarked path had been growing, and I was beginning to suspect it was influencing my decisions. As she shared some of the steps she’d already taken and peace laced with anxiety about the uncertainty of the path before her, a few personally familiar themes stood out to me and my suspicions about my own recent decision making process was confirmed.

She spoke of the peace and relief she was experiencing in ‘the knowing’ that taking some time away from ‘traditional’ work to decompress, heal and reevaluate was very much the right thing to do for her health and well-being. (That’s exactly how I felt when I started this journey a year ago and still feel on my better days.) Yet when we got to the discussion of ‘the doing’ of all those things she expressed anxiety about ‘the not knowing’ what to do or how long to do it for lest ‘the doing’ be done wrong or for too long. (And there we have how I feel on my less good days.) When I reminded her that she began our conversation by telling me that she knew an important part of this process of recovering her health was to learn to trust more and let go of her need for control, she laughed and confessed that her anxiety of the unknown had her filling out a job application while we spoke. I laughed, too (I had just had yet another phone interview for another job I didn’t want the other day).

When I asked her if she’d considered exploring a creative outlet she’d earned money doing in the past, she provided a litany of reasons why at her age(as if one’s age alone carries an innate fatalistic quality) she can’t try something like that (notice, even attempting isn’t an option). “It’s too uncertain.” (Remember one of the stated goals of said break is to get more comfortable in uncertain spaces). She then says she’s afraid if she gets too comfortable being away from ‘real’ work (which she’s acknowledged is currently unhealthy for her), she will become irrelevant in her field and won’t be able to get back in to what she states is the best of her future income options (though she’s not yet taken time to explore them). She hadn’t even left her job yet, and she’d already predetermined several things wouldn’t work and made the assumption that options are by nature finite and limited to ones familiar to her.

As I pointed these ironies out to her, I also observed (probably as much for myself as for her) that my concern was that all of the reasons she shared were stated in terms of (fear-driven) ‘knowing’ the outcome of new options would not be positive and the only future options she had were those that were immediately familiar. My concern was not for ‘what’ she was deciding (maybe that creative outlet should remain just a fun hobby, maybe time away will grant perspective turning her current field into a healthy choice), but ‘how’ and ‘why’ she was deciding.

What I mean by the ‘how’ and the ‘why’ is simply this: How did I arrive at the ‘facts’ that supported why I did or didn’t do something? Did I eliminate options because they weren’t something I wanted or am interested in? Have I done open-minded, possibility-driven research to explore what could be and then narrowed the field of options to find the best fit for me right now? (This process I put in the healthy/constructive camp.) Or, did I eliminate or fail to even explore options purely because of fear of what could go wrong or the ‘not knowing’ which accompanies something new? Did I decide not to consider an option purely because it didn’t work the first time or based on someone else’s experience or lack thereof? (This, I put in the potentially unhealthy/self-limiting camp.)

Why is it that we don’t know how the unfamiliar will turn out, but we do seem to ‘know’ it’s gonna be bad, or, at the very least, no better than what we already know? How many doors do we close (or not even give a FIRST glance) simply because we don’t recognize them? Life has seemingly become, for so many of us, about mitigating risk rather than exploring/developing potential and possibilities. One thing I’m learning (more often the hard way) is that my attempts to mitigate risk(a.k.a. avoid pain and disappointment), have done nothing to prevent (or even lessen) pain or disappointment. The only thing this approach has accomplished is periodically robbed me of present joy in favor of the fear of future disappointment, kept me in places I knew were no longer healthy for far too long and led me to dismiss opportunities placed before me without giving them any serious consideration because they were too unfamiliar or ‘impractical’. Turns out, wherever you go, there your tigers are(unless you stay committed to charting a new course). It took moving to a new continent and a new hemisphere to help me realize that ‘how’ and ‘why’ I decide my next steps is just as important, if not more important, than ‘what’ I decide.

Though taking the first step to move away from something unhealthy took courage and was a risk, staying the courageous course proved trickier for me. Moving away from the unhealthy ‘known’ has proven easier than moving towards an unknown with seemingly endless potential outcomes because so often all that seems to be visible are the bad ones.

Even in the presence of a new environment, making decisions based in fear of potential negative outcomes of new paths habitually led me right back to my old tigers. After all, I knew where tigers had been. The prospect of discovering where they weren’t was a bit scarier. So I got to thinking, What if we flipped that idea on its head? What if we looked at the new and unknown as an endless list of possibilities rather than an endless list of potential disappointments? What if our default was ‘what could be’ rather than ‘why it can’t’? What if rather than telling our kids all the reasons they can’t or won’t become an Olympian or marine biologist, we provide them a list of what they need to meet that goal and the support to try and make it happen?

I don’t claim to have the answers to much of anything, but my friend’s responses to entering the realm of the unknown reflected a larger pattern that’s been emerging to me lately. Seemingly everywhere I look, decision-making processes seem to be predominantly viewed through a lens of fear and scarcity (and we seem to be teaching that to/projecting that on our youth as well). As an adult who seems to ‘get’ high school students, I’ve had countless discussions with several young people this past year alone where they have confided in me that adults were actively discouraging them from pursuing areas of passion and interest because ‘they’re not smart enough in the appropriate subjects’ or ‘it’s hard to get a job doing that’ or ‘you don’t live somewhere where pursuing that occupation makes sense’…and the list goes on. These well-intended adults are trying to save them from disappointment by trying to encourage them to look down a ‘more practical’ path. Unfortunately, that path often leads in the opposite direction of their passion.

My very soul hurts when I hear these things come from their mouths. I can see the self-doubt beginning to cloud their once bright enthusiastic eyes (and potential)as they are choosing schools (or something other than school) because they’ve already abandoned their dream or passion at age 17 (or even younger), convinced by others (rather than their own experience) they weren’t capable or worthy of at least trying to pursue them. I’m not saying that everyone can become/achieve the thing they want when they’re 17, but I do feel there’s value in the pursuit, in the trying, in discovering during the journey (and even through disappointment)if it’s for you or not. I feel just as strongly that that idea should apply to full grown adults as well.

Perhaps you really are the next Michael Jordan, or perhaps during the pursuit of that dream you learn that what you really love is coaching and teaching or an injury leads you to discover your passion for becoming a physical therapist or helping kids who get hurt but don’t have access to good health care. All things you may never discover if you never tried to become the highly improbable professional basketball player. Whenever I talk to one of these students (as well as adults), I can’t help but wonder how many potential beautiful contributions to this world we are missing out on because we discourage trying (in young people and ourselves) because we’ve been conditioned to make decisions based on fear of the unknown or in the hopes of avoiding potential disappointment?

Most of us seem to have developed an extremely low tolerance for uncertainty, which, though understandable (this world can be a tough place to navigate), seems to drive us to latch on to the first certain thing we see just to make the uncertainty stop. Sometimes that first certain thing is a great opportunity, but often times it is simply a version of the aggressive tiger we’ve been trying to outrun. If the only reason we choose the thing is to move from uncertain to ‘certain’, we may unwittingly gravitate towards it simply because it’s familiar, forgetting (or perhaps not recognizing) that it’s only familiar because we’ve been down a similar unhealthy path before.

It was my failure to recognize this in previous expeditions that led to me bringing my feisty tigers with me wherever I went. It doesn’t mean the first step away to something new was wrong, but once I felt good and rested, too often I failed to understand the ‘how’ and the ‘why’ behind where I went next. This time, I’m trying to stay dedicated to the ‘how’s’ and ‘why’s’ in pursuit of what feels more authentic and true to myself (even though it is often uncomfortable and scary). I’m also trying to remind myself that uncomfortable and scary is ok, uncertainty can be a good thing because there’s adventure and limitless potential in the journey.

When my friend told me she was filling out a job application in direct contradiction with her stated goal of taking time away to reflect and heal, it gave me clarity regarding my own recent struggles. I’d been applying to jobs lately, too, but it didn’t feel right. On paper, it made sense and I could reason that it was the responsible thing to do, but it didn’t align with my own goals. I’d been down that path before. Listening to my friend helped me realize my choices to apply were driven by fear; fear of the unknown and fear of putting myself and my work out into the world. Turns out, every time I use that fear- driven process, there be tigers (and they’re always the fightin’ and chasin’ kind). What I’ve slowly come to realize is that I was constantly choosing to fight and run from the tigers I knew simply because I KNEW THEM. It may not have been pleasant (or even healthy), but I knew how to manage them. I’m finding that managing tigers may be fine (and even necessary) for a time (sometimes you have to live with the tigers for a while you chart a new path), but it’s not a long term solution.

For me, my conversation on Thursday (which was not unlike countless others I’ve had with so many others), reminded me of how frequently fear and anxiety of the unknown stands in the way of shaking the trail of so many tigers. It stands in the way of us discovering joy in the journey AND the destination of new paths and places. Rather than seeing the unknown as full of potential (and limitless) possibilities, so often the default position seems to be to presume nothing but bigger and fiercer tigers lie around every new corner.

It also reminded me of the other side of that coin. What if everyone started deciding between an endless list of possibilities rather than developing an endless list of failures and heartbreaks to be avoided? What if we told our kids they actually could become an astronaut or musician or marine biologist, and let them pursue their passion no matter how ‘impractical’ it may seem? What if rather than telling each other (and ourselves) all of the reasons something can’t and won’t work, we talked about what needs to be done to make it happen? After all, someone has to be an astronaut. Someone will be the next Adele (or Yo Yo Ma) or Sally Ride or Jacques Cousteau…or gifted farmer, carpenter, teacher or barista. My concern is not as much for what we become but why we become it. I believe there can be beauty and purpose in whatever we do, especially if it’s part of a journey that starts with ‘How can we?’ and ‘Why not? The possibilities are endless’.