This article does not relate to terrorism, but instead to the original usage of the word. I will be talking about being confronted with the raw unbound emotion that most of us rarely face. There are two occasions of terror I want to talk about. One is the more subjective, self-imposed terror. The other is borne out of situations terrifyingly beyond our control.
A dozen years ago, I had emerged from the far side of my first personal development crusade, and my first onslaught upon my fears and perceived weaknesses that had plagued me as a teenager. Two powerful situations came to pass within one year of each other, changing my life forever.
I have always been an immersed thinker. Even as a boy in the 1980’s I would sneak out at night just to feel the deep of the night sitting in a park on a swing or against the thickest tree I could find. By the same token, I would sneak away during the middle of the day, in the long sweltering Canadian desert summer (you bet there is!), when temperatures could occasionally climb over 120 degrees. I would take a New Testament and hike up the valley, to where there were no more habitations, seeking the farthest spot from man, and contemplate my faith.
Terror #1: The Uninvited
So it was a decade later in the 1990’s, as young adult I again found myself walking alone, with no destination beyond the walk, at night in Burnaby, near the giant mall out there and the shopping hub of metro Vancouver. I found myself walking up a long taxi lane with concrete barriers on either side. There were a few people around, but nobody I took particular note of. A man in front of turned about face and spoke to me. The barest moment later, five other men, who had been approaching from behind me, flanked be and the man in front of me had pulled a four or five inch knife. In that moment, halfway down a long concrete-walled taxi lane, I had a blade against my throat. I was also surrounded.
This article is not about the particular details of my ordeal. I will eventually have a more complete recount of events in a future podcast. It was traumatic and I survived. Millions have suffered though even worse. What matters is what happens to us after. What happened to every aspect of my life and mind that came in contact with such terror? Some emotional repercussions from this event and others that had a similar impact remained with me for years, as I battled against them. As I gathered my mortar and sought out the cracks. One advantage I had was that I was a writer. I could find words for my experience without having to speak them out loud. Here is one result which won me a writing prize, and what at the time was only my second publication. It is entitled “The Businessmen”:
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I have embedded this piece not to demonstrate that I possessed a little poetic ability 12 years ago or service my vanity. I succeeded as a result of connecting the seemingly psychologically overpowering experience to my passion, which blunted that force of enough to rationally attack from other psychological and creative positions. Part of possessing freedom is the ability to expose yourself, to possess vulnerability, even in the face of powerful psychological trauma. The liberty that had been stolen from me, I now reclaimed. I chose freedom, reclaiming my vulnerability from the constraints of an oppressive terror. I sought to rediscover strength, when I could not walk fifty feet without a furtive glance behind me for phantom muggers, when my gut first whispered to me that my imperative was to let no one know that I was not all right.
Whatever way you express yourself most passionately, be it though writing, painting, or prayer, harness that passion. Show that powerful hand down against the one that has you pinned. Let that endeavour that you are capable of fully investing yourself into crack the terror’s grip. Shine whatever light you can bring to bear upon the experience. Feel the emotionally charged but temporally distant event loom darkly. Past pain the mind lets slip but the body fails to forget… which now begins to loosen.
Let that endeavour that you are capable of fully investing yourself into crack the terror’s grip. Shine whatever light you can bring to bear upon the experience. Feel the emotionally charged but temporally distant event loom darkly. Past pain the mind lets slip but the body fails to forget… which now begins to loosen.
There are more stories and more details to this chapter of my journey with more before and some after, as there will be in yours. Terror never knocked from the arms of freedom and reality again. I would face off with Terror again. Only on some occasions, the saying goes, you do it to yourself.
Terror #2: Be my Guest
At the culmination of what I like to call my success honeymoon, as brash 22-year old, I had worked for years (read: less than four) developing a successful character ethic. Where I once was nearly incapacitated by low-self esteem, unsteady self-confidence, and ravaging depression, there as a new man. Now, I will not go on with this article under the false pretence that back then, or even today, ten years later during the waning days of 2009, that I am a steadfast model of unflappability. I was empowered not only by the mindfulness techniques I had already begun to hone, but also because I had discovered that fear was no barrier to confidence. Fear does not fare well in the midst of doing , and it was upon basis of these assertions that I acted.
In the summer of 1999, at the beginning of my twenty-second year, I committed to declare my candidacy for the position of Mayor of Vancouver. Voting for 1999 Civic Election was going to occur roughly four months after that decision. What led me to undertake this campaign? Was I serious? The prospect and scope of the campaign, and the position itself were terrifying to me at the time. My decision stemmed from an understanding of several factors. First, I had been looking for a new challenge. It had to be a challenge that would test my resolve and create a strong urge to quit. Only by finding a terrifying enough challenge could I test whether I had conquered my severe childhood fears. It would also inform me of my own resilience following being mugged by different neighbourhood gangs on two separate occasions (the first of which is outline above). I felt as though I had overcome the trauma while also shoring up old self-esteem issues, even while my confidence was stronger than ever. The more notions I considered the loftier they became. The fact that enabled me to pursue this office, was not that I believed I could not win. In coming to the decision to run for Mayor of Vancouver, I completed a personal inventory of what I was most passionate about (I would debate community issues and what I saw as the corruption of the municipal government at that time. I had been to council meetings, and knew I could stand to go to a lot more. I had completed a challenging professional acting and improvisation course that I knew would assist with media interviews, as well as debates. Moreover, local public affairs was one area I was considering for a future career. Not only was I passionate about the issues, or at least what I considered to be the issues, but I also had a real desire to pursue it as a career. Finally, running for Mayor of Vancouver was the goal that seemed to pose the greatest challenge, and the greatest level of intimidation of every possible challenge I could think of at the time that I could physically begin to undertake. There was no barrier for me, even at twenty two years of age. It would not have been feasible for me to decide to climb Mount Everest, date Uma Thurman, or clone a Woolley Mammoth. Furthermore, while climbing Everest would indeed create a greater amount of acute terror in me, without the actual tangible prospect of undertaking to do it, as well as, the firmest commitment to actually follow though, there is no comparable terror. I would not in any way be conquering a great fear simply by conducting the intellectual exercise of planning to climb Mount Everest, no matter how accurate the details. In order to meet my personal development aim, I had to create a real situation that terrified me, and then thrust myself into it.
I saw my campaign through to the end, exposing myself to precisely the degree of terror I had coldly hoped, four month earlier. I never gave up trying to gain votes wherever I could. I never quit in my mind even though the fear completely went away, while fears of what if I win built. I never let a terrified moment prevent an action I had planned. I never let the box fear put me in stop me from breaking though the walls.
Whether the fear is of you own design or a terrifying ordeal forced upon you, know that it is made of shackles and dark rooms, aimed at stealing your liberty. Even as a prisoner, however, you can create opportunities to grow to break though. At the heart of these illustrations is an opportunity to learn about the intangible elements surrounding trauma, human resilience, and healing. In understanding these less accessible realities about yourself, you will be equipping yourself with precisely the information that will help build the tools to overcome the steepest and most stubborn personal development obstacles. Finally, never forget that you still have the ability to choose actions for yourself. Fear cannot stand in the way of choice. Terror will never take ownership of your freedom.
CRC
