Since making the decision to hike the Appalachian Trail for the first time, those around me have constantly reminded me of all the things I should fear. Friends, family and acquaintances in general are quick to throw out a series of questions that should worry me. They constantly ask, «Aren’t you worried about bears, other people, loneliness?» The questions that can incite fear are endless. «How are you going to eat? Won’t you get tired?» How will you do it on your own?” While I can recognize that each of these questions is asked out of fear, I have realized that the biggest fear for me is the fear of failure.
This fear of failure is not new to me. If you ask my parents, I’ve been carrying it around since my early years. I am often told stories of my reaction to new experiences, such as when I was learning new tasks like reading, playing soccer, or learning to drive. When faced with an experience that could lead to failure, I had a tendency to get in my head and give up. While I returned to these skills over time and allowed myself to overcome the fear of failing at them, I still let fear control me for longer than I would like to admit.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that these same patterns control how I do or don’t pursue things that interest me. My default seems to be to not pursue what is difficult; I can’t fail if I don’t try, right? It’s not very healthy, I know, so for the past few years I’ve been working on changing my perspective on what failure really looks like to me.
For a few years I have been working with the elderly population as an occupational therapist, and I have met too many people who, at the end of their days, are bitter. They are full of resentment, for various things, but often for not following a life that makes them happy. A larger goal that is inextricably linked to my desire to hike is to create a life that leads to joy and not bitterness. A life that is full of things I value and experiences that give meaning to my life.
Now that I look back, my previous mentality of “I can’t fail if I never try” doesn’t sit well with me. I know that life is short and that true failure is not challenging myself to seek experiences that make me feel alive.
While I have not yet begun the journey, by committing to the path ahead, I have already been pushing myself to step out of my comfort zone. Spending so much time researching, investing money in equipment, and devoting energy to physically training are things I didn’t feel capable of a year ago. While each of these preparation challenges is small compared to the trailhead, the way one hikes 2,197.9 miles is one small step at a time. Good?
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