A couple of decades ago in college, I had several psychology and sociology classes. I revisited some of the concepts in my graduate studies. And while I’m sure I don’t remember very much of what I learned back then, there are a few concepts that I have thought on a great deal over the last 10 years or so.
As a ranger in the National Parks, I was always confronted with questions from park visitors regarding some fear or trepidation they had: will I freeze to death? What if I fall? Will a bear eat me?
Fear of the unknown can be debilitating. It can hold us back from some of the most exciting and fascinating experiences, and generally (at least, from my perspective) does little to actually keep us safe.
Incidentally, so far in 2019, I’ve had to deal a lot with the unknown. A cancer diagnosis leaves you with far more questions than answers. So I understand what it is like to ask a lot of questions that even experts can’t answer.
However, I have had to think back a lot to how I answer such questions. In the parks, I was trained to always read between the lines and figure out what the visitor was not asking. So the actual information that might answer the initial question is not really what the person is interested in learning.
For instance, I have been asked many, many times if I was eaten by a bear during my stay in Alaska. While my initial response is to laugh and retort with something like, “I’m here talking to you right now, aren’t I?”, the person is generally asking me something more along the lines of, “I heard about a bear mauling a person on the news. Weren’t you scared anything like that would happen to you?”
My truthful answer? Not really, because I informed myself about bear behavior and how I needed to behave around these large mammals. I learned to read the signs in the landscape around me: Did the bear have cubs with her? What about the movement of the bear’s ears? What kind of vocalizations was the bear making? How far away was the animal?
While this is just one example from my park experiences, it brings me to the point of my essay today: my locus of control. You see, I learned a great deal, and allowed myself a wide variety of experiences, so that I could drive out that fear of the unknown. I was in control, as much as is possible.
In psychology, experts divide locus of control into internal and external. If you’d like a quick explanation of these, read this article. If I may be so bold, I’d like to think that I have a fairly internal locus of control – most everything is up to my ability and knowledge, and I must be prepared for whatever situation presents itself.
Just a couple of weeks ago, I had an interesting conversation with a coworker at my park. I was telling him that my neighbor in the apartment next to me had a tendency to be a bit loud. Whether it was the odd crash or bang, or sometimes even singing in the shower, the noises threw me off a bit.
This coworker thought for a moment and said, “You’re a single woman living alone. Weird noises must be alarming. Would you like some peace of mind? I can loan you the equipment you would need.”
I knew in an instant to what equipment he was referring. He was a gun owner and he was offering to lend me some sort of gun. He went on to remind me that, where we were living, I didn’t need any permit, so it was all legal.
I assured him I didn’t need anything of the sort, and the subject was dropped, no hurt feelings on either side.
But that conversation has made me think several times over the last couple of weeks. Where does my peace of mind come from? Would a gun help my peace of mind?
My answer: absolutely not. My peace of mind must come from inside me. Innate, internal, based on my knowledge and experience. No gun would actually cause me to have peace of mind if the knowledge wasn’t there. And if the knowledge is there, what could a gun add?
Yes, my neighbor was annoyingly noisy at times, but the fact remains that he was just loud. Not (to my knowledge) doing anything illegal or dangerous. He got up and went to work every morning. As he was a seasonal worker, this weekend was the end of his job and I believe he actually moved out last night, without event or incident. Those are the facts. Guns not required for everything that went bump in the night.
Similarly, I had another experience last week that some might find shocking. En route to New York City for a few days away from ‘life’ (my surgery team, including the hospital social worker, really push for their cancer patients to take such a vacation when treatment is done and testing/maintenance is still a ways off), the second leg of my journey – a flight from Chicago to New York – was cancelled due to weather. I was able to get on the next flight out and eventually made it to my hotel by about 11:30 p.m. I should have made it to New York in time for dinner, but I was still completely wired at 11:30 p.m. not only due to the time zone difference but also because of the adrenaline from travelling.
So what did I do at midnight? I filled up my water bottle, grabbed my hotel room key, and took off for a walk in the city. I didn’t bring a purse or bag – partly to avoid looking like I had something to steal and partly because I was tired of hauling my luggage around. I needed the water to combat the horrid dry mouth that resulted from my radiation treatment – without something drink, speaking is much more difficult.
Never having been to New York City before, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but I wasn’t tired. And I am fairly adventurous on my own. My hotel was at the corner of 41st and Madison (a GREAT location, by the way, about a block from Grand Central Station), so I headed up 41st to 5th Avenue, turned right and started walking uptown.
New York really is the city that never sleeps. There was so much activity all around me: construction, garbage hauling, people working on window displays in nearly every type of retail store (but especially the high-end designer shops and department stores), and lots of people walking to where ever.
I learned an important lesson last week in New York through all of this: I was far more likely to get stepped on than mugged in New York. Stopping to look at a window display was often like taking my life in my own hands because people expect you to KEEP MOVING. I walked around several parts of the city, I took the subway numerous times, and I did this all on my own. Did I ever feel unsafe? No. Did I ever wish for my coworker’s “peace of mind”? Not once. I had fun conversations with complete strangers all week. I saw things I’d previously only seen on TV news or in movies. I was overwhelmed in several stores (you NEED to go to Mood Fabrics if you’re at all DIY inclined) by the choices and options I had. I learned I could feed my creativity endlessly in New York City.
But again, I learned and experienced a lot – so I know what to do and I know what I can handle and expect. I have so little fear of the unknown there that I have already planned my next trip to New York – I just have to save up the money. 😉
So I will pose these questions: Where is your locus of control? Does fear control you or have you conquered it?
Notes From The High Country 