A fearless love of life

The most beloved compliment I've ever received was from my brother, John. He told me that he admired my "fearless love of life."

It has always stuck with me, perhaps because I've never seen myself as particularly fearless. (By the way, see my companion post from a few years back starting with this same compliment.)

Recently, a colleague of mine introduced me to a podcast called Invisibilia. It is produced by NPR and focuses on the invisible forces that shape our lives. The particular episode I listened to this evening was on the topic of fear. 

Not to overshare about the episode, because it is definitely worth a listen, but they come to the semi-scientific conclusion that people who are biologically more fearful are less likely to be involved in fear-inducing situations, yet see those fewer experiences as very traumatic. Conversely, people who are less fearful are less traumatized by the more frequent number of fear-inducing situations they experience.

That was the moment I became hooked; when they posed the question (after thoughtful, thorough and entertaining examples) of whether it is better to be fearful or fearless. 

I have always loved that one (and maybe all) of my big brothers saw me as being fearless. It was a badge I wore with pride once I was made aware of it -- and it was something that fueled me past my comfort zone when jumping out of an airplane, among other risky bets.

Perhaps I am biologically built to take on 'scarier' experiences with greater grace than the average Jo(sie). Though I was then made to question that supposition as I listened to the podcast explain that most fears are learned rather than inherited. For instance, kids are not instinctually afraid of snakes. The narrators take a fairly long byway on the snake topic but it's worth hearing the SNL-esque "Snake in a sock" sound effect, and the thought-provoking idea that snakes are "sailing around on currents of our fear" based on skydive sweat tests. 

Anyway, after the snake-subject meandering, I wasn't quite as confident that I was just naturally fearless. People can learn to conquer their fears. Which, I suppose doesn't negate that you might be born more, or less fearless than the next person.

But the really, really, really interesting part to me was when the podcast concluded. 

I sat in reflection and recognized how happy I was to have had my insight horizons broadened by this 60-minute podcast. Because I've given up pop music in favor of Christian music for Lent, the song that started playing in my mind was, "...Blest be the Lord, Blest be the Lord. The God of mercy, the God who saves."

And then I literally chuckled out loud when my inner speaker continued to the next line: "I shall not fear the dark of night, nor the arrow that flies by day."

Maybe my fearlessness is a bit natural, a bit learned, and a lot intentional blessing for the purpose God has in mind.

A whale of a tale

There’s an old saying about worries or cares being like having a monkey on your back. Yoga is sometimes referred to as the practice of quieting the monkey brain. The visual is not hard to grasp – a pesky, distracting monkey constantly turning your attention from whatever is before you, to instead satisfy the Curious George at your back.

I also love the pop song, “Shake it off” – though I don’t mean the Taylor Swift version. I mean Florence and the Machines: “It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back, so shake it off.” But come to think of it, Taylor’s song is pretty similar in intent: “Haters gonna hate-hate-hate-hate-hate. You just gotta shake it off, shake it off.”

There was once a man named Jonah. (Josie, seriously where are you going with this, now?)

Jonah was being called by God. I’m paraphrasing here but essentially God was saying, “Hey, go over to that town Nineveh and tell them to quit being so sinful. They’re doing all kinds of stuff that you know I don’t like. Please be my hands and be my voice and tell them to stop and find peace in me.”

If you’re familiar with the tale, you know that Jonah runs away to hide from the Lord’s call but God, ever clever and snarky, has Jonah get swallowed up into a fish (technically a mammal) that delivers him via express-whale to the shores of Nineveh. Jonah eventually does as God commands and tells the people of Nineveh to repent. They listen and their lives are renewed.

The story is one that I’ve known since I was a child but I may have never really heard it. How familiar is the experience of something tugging at your heart but your mind tells you to run far, far away. Then, just when you think your head is about to be buried in the sand, God upends the situation and you come face to face with it. “Do I say the thing I’m struggling to stifle?” “Do I offer up the help I’m scared will be rejected?”

It strikes me that Nineveh was the monkey on Jonah’s back. And while he was trying to just shake-shake-shake it off, God had a plan.

Nineveh is still a land of consequential actions, being situated on the shores of the Tigris River in Iraq. As recently as this week, ISIS soldiers were terrorizing the people of Nineveh Province.

I wonder if there might be some modern day Jonah trying to shake off a call from God to go serve His people in Nineveh. And can you imagine a bigger whale than ISIS to drive that Jonah to their shores? God be with you, Jonah. And a moment of thanks to realize my own monkey is not so hard to carry, quiet and 'shake it off' by answering God's call.