How I deal with fear - notes by a mountain climber

I think I’ve experienced my fair share of fear in my life. The acute bout of fear when you find yourself on the side of the mountain and realize things just got dicy. Or the lingering fear when you’re in basecamp of a mountain, waiting to do a solo speed ascent and everyone is buzzing with fear about how dangerous the current conditions are and how many people have already had accidents, some even died. Or when you’re about to head to a mountain and get a message from your friend saying “Please tell me it’s not you” and a link to an article “Soloist dies on Matterhorn”. And then two more people die before you even make it to the base of the mountain.

But like I discussed in my previous post, I consider fear an ally. It sharpens our senses and gets us engaged in the moment. Fear itself is not dangerous. Danger is dangerous, fear just allows us to see it and navigate it better.

I promised I would let you in on the practical tools I use to navigate fear. There are three steps I generally apply.

I start with acknowledgement. Have you ever tried to lie to yourself that you’re not afraid when you really are? Yeah, doesn’t really work, does it? Like with a lot of other feelings, acknowledging that they exist is the first step to dealing with them. When I acknowledge my fear, I remember it’s just there as an ally. At this point I usually rationalize with myself: letting this feeling to overpower me is not going to be helpful. It will either turn into worry or a distraction. So, I’ll just set it aside for the time being. Especially when there’s an acute need for focus, setting the fear aside is crucial. I can’t count the times I’ve said to myself: “you can either focus on the fear or the action. The latter option will improve your chances of survival.”

Second step is connecting with the truth. Especially when there’s time to worry, I feel it’s a default mode of the human brain to picture worst case scenarios, to become fatalistic. What works for me in navigating this is making a list of facts. Every time I’m about to climb a mountain I write down the things I know about:

- the mountain or the route

- the weather/other conditions

- my physical abilities and skills

- my mental state

- objective hazards

- subjective risks

It helps to see it all on paper that, ok, this route is in my wheelhouse. The physical abilities and the mental abilities are there. I just need to monitor this or that about myself or about my surroundings. Or on the contrary, I might come to a conclusion, that now it’s not the time for me to go up. A while ago in Nepal I got really sick, with my lungs on fire and high fever, but still wanted to attempt a speed ascent on a 6000m+ mountain. I wrote down these lists and knew that I could be harming myself if I went. I do have to admit that I needed a definite “fact” on this list from my doctor before I decided to abort the mission, because I really wanted to go, but the bullet point that said “risking heart inflammation” got me to back off.

Anyhow, the point is, that connecting with the truth to the best of your abilities will help with feeling at ease and more in control of whatever it is that is causing fear.

And the last tool. So obvious but so easy to forget: focusing on the next step or move. We tend to look at the top of the mountain and feel like we’re never going to make it. That there’s too much that can go wrong, it’s too far and just the thought of starting feels exhausting. But the truth is, we won’t know if we can make it and what problems we’ll encounter if we don’t even try. Usually, the next step is not super scary. And the one after isn’t either. There will be sections where you’ll need to focus extra hard but taking it one move at a time will get you over them.

And especially if beforehand you’ve deducted which hazards to monitor, you can make decisions as you go. Like when I was in BC and afraid that I’ll lose my toes if I go for the summit next night. So I started, took one step at a time, monitored my toes, sat down to warm them up and waited for the sun, made the decision to continue even though they were cold but I knew the sun would warm them up, wiggled them around preemptively, and one step at a time, made it to the summit and back, with my toes intact.

I feel a bit of fear right now. I’m on an expedition and I’d be lying if the thought of possibly not coming back didn’t cross my mind. The thought of never seeing the people I love again, never sleeping in my own bed, next to my person again, never watching a silly reality show snacking on awesome Finnish candy again… then there’s just a lot of practical uncertainties. How will the weather hold up? Did I pack the right gear? How will the logistics work out as I’m doing a two-part expedition? How is the safety? Will we be able to summit any of the mountains that are on the list? Does it matter if we won’t?

But you know what, now I’ll just write down my lists, pray and take one step at a time.