You Can't Be Brave Without Fear

This Saturday was a big moment for me in parenting. 

My oldest son Jack (about to be 10 y/o) picked up his love of roller coasters earlier this year, and has been riding the thrill seeking all spring and summer. However, on one outing to our local theme park, he balked at going on the Voodoo Drop, a ride that slowly lifts you 140 feet into the air and then proceeds drops you in to a free fall.

Not a big deal at all at the time. Jack has never been forced to ride anything he didn't feel comfortable with, so when the rational voice in his head said... "this doesn't sound like a great idea", he was free to walk away.

What developed over the next several days was a profound anxiety in Jack, marked by excessive ruminating on his inability to ride the ride. This rumination compounded the fear into almost nightly tear filled sessions. 

I was especially sympathetic to Jack, because when I was about his age I had ridden on a wooden roller coaster aptly named, "The Beast". I was so shaken by the ride that I refused to ride roller coasters for the next 6 years. 

I didn't want Jack to have the same hiatus from roller coasters, so I made it a priority to help him navigate his emotions.

What ensued were a series of 6-7 evening conversations focused around the Voodoo Drop. During these conversations, there were a couple helpful concepts that I found very helpful in helping me to help Jack help himself through the process... help.

They were as follows:

1) Normalizing and Naming the feeling. 

     "Yes, what you are feeling now is anxiety... it sucks... it is an unpleasant emotion." 

     "I know I often feel it too."

     "This is part of the human condition my man."

     "Everyone feels this way at some time."

2) This won't last forever. 

     "This feeling will pass."

      There is a saying in trauma surgery, "all bleeding eventually stops." I carry the same mantra for crying and for anxiety.

     "Let the thoughts arise and pass."

3) We evolved anxiety to help us. 

     "Anxiety is trying to help you."

     "Your brains It is trying to help you and often does, just right now it is not doing a good job"

4) Depersonalizing thoughts.

     "How much control do you have on the Voodoo Drop showing up in your mind?"

     "Think of a T. rex. Now stop thinking about a T. rex. What are you thinking about now. You are thinking about a T. rex right now aren't you."

     "Are you anxiety? If the anxiety goes away do you also go away?"

5) Giving space to feel the emotion. 

     My knee jerk reaction is to try to make the negative emotions my son is feeling go away. I have the impulse to minimize, "It's not so bad is it?", There is nothing to be worried about. Just think about something else." These thoughs are often not helpful.  

     Instead the mentality has to be "I am not trying to take this away from you... Instead I am trying to help you make friends with this and live with it."  

6) Constantly asking him to "tell me more". 

     A concept that crosses my mind often is this: that humans in general have a tough time organizing ideas in their head. One of the biggest advantages of living in social groups is talking with other people. Specifically, it is in the talking out your ideas that really helps to organize your thought process. That is, even if the person you are talking to offers no clarification or advice, you receive a major benefit of increased clarification of thought simply by externalizing the narrative.

In fighting my initial urge and in not trying to resolve this for Jack I gained much. I became a steady sounding board and a reliable listener and confidant and my relationship with Jack grew deeper. 

We added another data point to the board that he could come to me, that I would be on his side, I would let him be himself and come as he is, and that the interaction would be helpful to him. 

Successfully navigating this also increased the probability that in the future jack will come to me again.

After multiple discussion, Jack chose his own course of action. He wanted to address his anxieties and chose to face his fears and ride the Voodoo Drop. The day went back to the theme park was filled with anticipation. There were some tears shed in line as we waited for our turn, and some of the parents undoubtedly questioning my parenting. When the time came, Jack stepped up and strapped in. We rode the ride together and after the 140 foot free fall both of us had an enormous smile plastered across both of our faces. 

A job well done followed immediately by a second Voodoo Drop ride and some dip and dots.