WHEN DID WE ALL GET SO AFRAID?
A Ferris wheel, a whole lot of fear, and a memory I'm still chewing on.
Hi everyone, this memory came back to me, so I wanted to share it. I also thought we could all take a minute—maybe even close our eyes—and imagine fear, once named, dissolving into safety, happiness, health, and freedom for us all. Sending love to you, and deep gratitude, always, for your continued support and readership of my tiny tales. xx Alexa
Years ago, a bunch of us went to the Jersey Shore to celebrate our friend Tim’s birthday.
We were all technically adults, but we didn’t have careers yet—or kids. We acted like children, though: goofing off at mini-golf, eating cotton candy until our stomachs hurt, collecting inside jokes like prizes from the arcade.
Back at the rental house, the power went out right in the middle of baking a Duncan Hines cake. We tried to finish it on the BBQ, though I honestly can’t remember if it ever turned out.
What I do remember is the Ferris wheel.
How excited we were for that ride—to see the whole beach lit up from hundreds of feet above.
But when we reached the top, the wheel stopped.
For a few minutes, we just sat there in silence, suspended mid-air, swaying gently in the ocean breeze.
Then our friend Odile asked:
“When did we all get so afraid?”
We sat with that question—like it was a riddle, or a Zen koan—as the wheel creaked back to life and slowly brought us back down to earth.
Afterward, it was hard to recover the mood. None of us talked about what happened up there.
Years later, I’m still thinking about it.
I would go on to do some seemingly fearless things in life—none of them of my choosing. And I didn’t know, at the time, that I was being brave. I was just... being.
But I also got the message that bravery would be rewarded—with praise, with recognition, with little prizes.
How I wish I could have offered my fear up instead.
Or at least had it acknowledged. Named.
The way Odile did for us that night on the Ferris wheel.
A MEDITATION
May I name my fear.
May I meet it with tenderness.
If my tiny tale brought a moment to mind—one you’ve carried without fully knowing why—I’d love to hear it. Feel free to share in the comments or just reply to this email, I always love hearing from you.
Let’s keep each other company in these times.
xx Alexa
In every moment the only choice we make is
Love or Fear.
Be still and observe and your choice.
David and Kay Hines
Ever since I read this I've found that I can ground myself in the present moment with that question.
What is this situation asking of me, and how do I respond?
I have thought about this question often, as a person who is thought of as a bit "fearless". My background and education lead me to believe that although the fear response is innate, the degree of fear is also based on experience, often from childhood. Many people have been taught in childhood to not "do" things for fear of being injured or punished. This is particularly true for girls/women and people of colour. Consequences of risk taking can be more severe for some than others. The current political situation, much of it steeped in misogyny and racism, has increased the danger to the rights and safety of women and people of colour. History has taught us that some have always been legitimately "afraid". Where we sit on the spectrum of fear can be influenced by our degree of privilege. So I applaud the question and encourage a critical eye when assessing fear as a legitimate response.