When I was a kid, I hated change and craved comfort. I approached new situations hesitantly and cautiously, taking everything in before straying from my parents’ side.
I can remember my blood boiling at being called a “chicken”, but I began to believe it was true. Maybe I was just the type to be paralyzed by fear. Behind my stubbornness, I hid admiration for those kids who would unhesitatingly jump right into something—whether on stage, in a pool or on the dance floor– without considering the consequences.
So how did someone like me end up thousands of miles from home in Nome, Alaska? Maybe in the past few years I’ve subconsciously decided to compensate for a childhood of opting out by embarking on all these adventures, but I can also attribute this new-found perspective to a quote I heard not too long ago:
“Being brave does not mean being unafraid.”
I reminded myself of this last week before I headed off on a 60-or-so mile drive down Kougarok road in 20-degree weather with my friend Scott on his four-wheeler. As I paced back and forth waiting to be picked up, I thought of every possible worst case-scenario that could occur on this trip: getting attacked by a bear, crossing paths with a moose or musk ox, flipping the four-wheeler, getting stranded, freezing to death, etc. You name it, I thought about it all within a 5-minute period.
Maybe a bit overboard, yes, but that has always been my natural way of being: observing before doing and considering consequences. And when I walked out to greet Scott, it turned out he had thought of these things too (although probably less frantically than I had). He had his gun, a tent, and a trauma kit just in case, you know, all of my worst nightmares occurred.
The good news is none of them did. We drove down Kougarok, sandwiched between snowcapped mountains and splashing through ice covered puddles to Pilgrim Hot Springs. I was struck by the eerie-peacefulness of the springs, the site of an abandoned orphanage with a rich history. I am still reeling from the magic of that place and the ride to and from it, glad that my fears did not stop me from experiencing that day.
What I’ve learned from being here in Nome is that being a bit fearful does not make you a “chicken”, it makes you wise. There are things, especially in Western Alaska, that pose serious threats to your safety, and acknowledging them encourages preparedness. Fear does not stop people from engaging with the land around them, but it does help them survive on it and enjoy it more fully.
I think I’m braver now, not because I’m some fearless adventurer, but because I’ve learned to listen to the things that scare me and still go on living.
