There is a major difference between those who are arachnophobes and the rest of the world who simply dislike spiders. Of course, there’s those crazy types that actually like spiders.

I am an arachnophobe and so my nature is to dislike spiders, but it goes much further than that. We arachnophobes live in a world where spiders lurk behind every corner. They lie in wait on the ceiling over the couch or the bed waiting for just the right moment to dangle inches from our faces on their sticky, silky threads. They lurk among the papers of my cluttered desk, and when I least expect it, they’ll charge across my keyboard like a streaker at a football game. I can’t clean out a basement, garage or closet without keeping a watchful, nervous eye out for anything that creeps or crawls or scurries on eight legs. My nightly routine before going to bed consists of scanning the corners of my bedroom ceiling and checking around the window frames for spiders. This routine has become such a part of my subconscious that I don’t even realize I’m doing it. My wife gives me an inquisitive look on occasion wondering what the hell I’m looking for.

Now I know it’s silly to be terrified of spiders. While I’m in the grips of paralyzing terror, uncontrollable shivering and the sensation that I have a thousand spiders crawling on me, I know my fear is downright ridiculous. I used to feel that there was absolutely nothing I could do and would have to live my life this way. My greatest fear was about what would happen if I was driving my car and a spider ran across my steering wheel.

When I got the chance to meet a coworker’s pet tarantula a couple years ago, I hesitantly agreed to go look at it. What I didn’t realize until I was at his cubicle was that he was holding the thing in his hands. I looked around at my other coworkers who were gathered around with smiles on their faces. They knew about my arachnophobia. I knew what was going on. It was time to face my fear. (Never tell friends, family or coworkers what you’re afraid of. They WILL use it against you someday!)

I could have freaked out and ran back to my desk. But I didn’t want to. I actually wanted to hold this spider that was almost the size of my hand, and feel the exhilaration of facing my fear. I asked my coworker if I could let it crawl across my hands.

My coworker gently placed his hands next to mine and the spider (I don’t remember what her name was) slowly crept from his hands to mine. My knees were shaking. My body was stiff. I was breathing hard and fast. The only thing I can remember was watching intently as the tarantula slowly made it’s way across my outstretched, right hand and crossing over onto my left hand. It’s feet were sticky. It was lighter than it looked. After a few seconds, I frantically told my coworker to take the spider.

I couldn’t bring myself to pet her, but I was proud of my accomplishment. It’s a little thing. Not the greatest achievement of my life. But I’m proud of the way I forced myself to have the experience of facing my fear without taking the easy route and chickening out. I had more to gain from the experience of handling a tarantula and more to loose from simply giving into fear.

While my tarantula experience has not completely cured my fear of spiders, I learned that I do have a choice in how I deal with fears, even irrational ones. I can either choose to grow and face my fears or I can refuse to grow and hold myself back from having a better life. The easy path leads to stagnation, but the hard one opens up new possibilities.

Are your fears holding you back? Is it time to make the decision to face your terror and grow?

“It is better to fail spectacularly than to achieve mediocrity.” – Randy Pausch

Fear and anxiety is something I struggle with on a daily basis. It’s just the way I am. I’m a “worse-case-scenario-thinker” which means that I imagine the absolute worse thing that could possibly happen has a high likelihood of occurring. This is not all bad, since it means I am well prepared for critical jobs and can often anticipate problems before they become catastrophes. However, this mindset gets in the way when strapped into a harness and preparing to cruise on a zip line 100 feet over the Mexican jungle; or when making life-changing decisions.

Perceived Risk vs. Actual Risk

As a worse-case-scenario-thinker, I am focused on the perceived risk instead of the actual risk. In the case of zip lining, the perceived risk is that the line would break and I would plummet 100 feet into caiman-infested waters below. The actual risk is negligible. There were two cords on the zip line, both of which were capable of holding more than three times my weight each. The greater risk was that my fear of heights would prevent me from having such a freeing and exhilarating experience.

When applying this concept to daily life, learning the difference between perceived risk and actual risk puts into perspective what I have to potentially loose or gain when making life-changing decisions.

I was terrified when I left my day job back in January 2008 to pursue a freelance videography career. I didn’t know if I would be able to make enough money to live on. I didn’t know if I’d be able to eat, pay rent or even afford the additional camera equipment needed to get professional work. The risk felt huge and the potential negative outcome (starvation and bankruptcy) was equally looming. Putting my dream off and staying put in a day job that interfered with my ability to focus on my career aspirations was making me miserable and becoming less of an option.

In order to move forward, I decided to name my nightmare by writing down the worse-case-scenario that might result from leaving my job. Then I worked out what my plan would be to get back on my feet should the worse case happen. What I realized is that the risk was a lot smaller than I had thought when put into perspective. I was just as likely to be successful, probably more so than I was to fail. And even if I did fail, there would be other day jobs and ways to make money to survive. In short, I could quickly get myself back to where I was. Furthermore, I realized the actual risk of staying at my day job was higher than the perceived risk of leaving my day job. By staying put, I was risking NOT having passion and happiness in my life. I was risking NOT doing what I loved for a living and having the freedom to be creative and be myself. The actual risk of leaving my job to follow my dream was negligible – temporary financial difficulty. Nine months in, I have taken a couple temp jobs here and there, but I have maintained my standard of living, increased the amount of time I have to work on what I am passionate about and have been able to replace my salary with freelance videography work. I feel happier and healthier than I did when I was making a steady paycheck.

So, what are you afraid of changing in your life? What perceived risk is holding you back from living the life you want?

Step 1 – Name Your Nightmare: Write down your worse-case-scenario. This is the worse possible outcome of your decision to start a business, change your career, go back to school, etc.

Step 2 – Name Your Vision: Write down the best-case-scenario. This is what would happen if success was guaranteed no matter what.

Step 3 – Plan Your Rebound: Now that you are thinking more positively, return to your worse-case-scenario and write down all the ways you could return to your current situation financially, etc… There are always options. What jobs could you get? Could you return to your old job or company? What are other talents you could capitalize on to make money and supplement your income? What items around the house could you sell if you needed extra cash? Could you rent out a spare bedroom, park your car and carpool/take public transportation for a couple months? How difficult would it REALLY be to get back on your feet? This is a brainstorm session, so do not spend too much time worrying about the detailed logistics of your rebound ideas. Just make a list and do not rule anything out.

Step 4 – Determine The Actual Risk: What would you gain or loose by pursuing your dreams if you were successful (a higher income, more time with family, a sense of purpose and fulfillment)? What would you gain or loose by playing it safe and staying put?

PS – Here’s another fear I faced recently. This was all peer pressure, though…