Fear, Choice, and the Journey Beyond Comfort

But these aren’t always conscious decisions. They creep in through the overwhelm of daily life—the lightning-fast pace of technology, the highlight reels on social media, the constant stream of voices telling us to look outside ourselves for answers. It’s no wonder we end up feeling out of control, like our lives are a runaway train. This chaos can fuel fear and a desperate grasp for any sense of control. I feel this.

Steven Pressfield writes in his book The War of Art:

“We fear discovering that we are more than we think we are. More than our parents, children, teachers think we are. We fear that we actually possess the talent… that we actually have the guts, the perseverance, the capacity.”

— The War of Art (2002)

I think a lot of us, as Pressfield points out, are afraid of our own potential. That deep down, we might sense that we’re capable of more, but the thought of going for it feels terrifying. What if it all goes wrong? What if we fail?

But we have a choice.

We can run away from the fear, shrugging our shoulders in apathy, becoming more passive over time.

Or, we can attack the fear head-on.

Fear does some interesting things to us. Fear paralyzes us. It alters our behavior. It changes our worldviews. It leaves us susceptible to those looking to take advantage of our fear. IDLES writes in their 2018 song “Danny Nedelko“:

“Fear leads to panic, panic leads to pain, pain leads to anger, anger leads to hate.”

— Joy as an Act of Resistance, by IDLES (2018)

The song is about unity—that we’re all human, regardless of how we look, talk, or believe. But it’s also about fear. When we succumb to our fears and desperately try to avoid them, the fear festers. It spirals into frustration, resentment, and eventually, into anger—at the world, at others, even at ourselves. When we live in that loop, we’re giving up our power to grow, to take charge.

“Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the Lord.”

— Leviticus 19:18

Demagogues love fear.

The Oxford Dictionary defines a demagogue as: a political leader who seeks support by appealing to the desires and prejudices of ordinary people rather than by using rational argument.

And the Oxford Dictionary defines populism as: a political approach that strives to appeal to ordinary people who feel that their concerns are disregarded by established elite groups.

Demagogues use populist tactics to tap into some of our most primal impulses around fear and identity, offering a sense of belonging and a simplified path by encouraging us to join a unified group, often under a singular ideology or charismatic leader. It urges us to rally behind the loudest voice, to step aside and entrust our hopes to figures or groups perceived as having exceptional or even divinely sanctioned authority to resolve societal issues. Figures who will do anything for power. And figures who, despite appearances, are often driven by a pain greater than we could ever imagine.

Demagogues soothe our deepest insecurities, temporarily.

It’s this same pain that makes demagogues so effective at what they do. Feeling inferior themselves, they have a keen sense of how to exploit our own feelings of inadequacy for their own gain. When we feel inferior, we want to believe that there is some entity, group, or structure causing our inferiority. It is in this space where the demagogue thrives. We become their energy source, and they drain us until we’re depleted, only to discard us when we’re no longer useful. Textbook narcissism at work.

This dynamic is far from new; it has recurred throughout history in waves. The rise and fall of populist movements could be perceived as cyclical:

“Authoritarians have always been here. But the features of a given moment make that way of thinking more or less appealing. Germany in the 1920s, when people are starving, suddenly makes ‘populist’ answers and scapegoating different groups as the source of the problem much more appealing.”

— Robert Sapolsky, Stanford neuroscientist and author of Behave (2017)

We’re evolutionarily wired to follow,

and it often feels safest to do so. Now, more than ever, in our algorithm-driven world, this rings true. Herd mentality can lead us into traps of conformity, where we trade our ability to think independently and make our own choices for the comfort of belonging to the crowd. If you find yourself in an echo chamber, it might not be your brain doing the thinking—the illusory truth effect shows that the more frequently we read or hear a false story, the more likely we are to believe that the false story is true. A quote I’ve turned to a lot lately goes: “If you want to make the wrong decision, ask everyone.”

Social media is…

constantly serving us “perfect” lives on a handheld screen. We scroll, and we compare. We feel like we’ll never measure up. So why even try? It’s easier to sit back and consume rather than build. It’s easier to follow than to lead. And this loop of comparison just feeds the same apathy that keeps us stuck—and, as a dire consequence, leaves us vulnerable to those who seek to exploit this—demagogues, authoritarians, populists, grifters, and opportunists who promise quick fixes.

“What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say.”

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

I wonder, of those we most aspire to—the athletes, the musicians, the actors, the authors, the faith leaders, the political figures, the scientists, the doctors, the engineers—how much time do they spend scrolling social media? Half the time we do? A quarter of the time? Perhaps they don’t scroll at all? Which begs the question: do we truly aspire to be more like them? Or, are we just looking for an excuse?

Technology is moving so fast…

that it’s easy to feel like we’re losing grip. As E.O. Wilson put it, the greatest problem of humanity is that “we have Paleolithic emotions; medieval institutions; and god-like technology.” Technology tempts us with quick, intermittent pleasures that can be short-lived and shallow. Whether we’re seeking validation to feel in control, engagement to feel we belong, hateful content to feel anger, or simply an excuse to escape reality—social media feeds our dopamine reward systems in an instant, often leaving us feeling emptier and hungrier than before—much like sugar to our fat cells. This is by design.

“People fabricate anger to protect their own fragile egos… they seek only short-term pleasure in an attempt to escape the pain of the here and now.”

— The Courage to Be Disliked (2013)

The same applies to fear and distraction; it’s easier to numb ourselves with quick fixes or to look backward with resentment than it is to look forward with hope and face the challenge of taking ownership of our lives. Real power isn’t about keeping up with every change—it’s about choosing to find our center and take action from within.

“Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.”

— Buddha

Avoiding discomfort…

leads to suffering. Growth isn’t about avoiding pain but facing it head-on, learning from it, and letting it transform us. When we stay within the walls of our comfort zones, we are choosing suffering in small, daily doses. And it’s only through stepping forward that we gain perspective on what we left behind.

“Sometimes it takes new doors opening to see that the rooms of the past were so devastatingly toxic.”

— Brianna West

Growth is messy. It’s not about achieving perfection; it’s about choosing to show up, imperfectly, again and again. As the Japanese proverb goes, “Fall down seven times, get up eight.” True nobility, as W.L. Sheldon reminds us, is “in being superior to your previous self.” It’s about choosing to rise, each time, until that courage becomes a habit.

So, let’s throw out the idea that someone or something else is going to fix things for us, set our lives straight, or bring us happiness and fulfillment. Government provides support in countless ways—ways that many of us, reading and sharing posts like this one, living in the comfort of a representative democratic country, may never fully understand or appreciate.

We can resist the urge to project our frustrations onto issues that are ultimately within our own control.

“As he himself said, ‘He who has made a success of himself has a twin duty—to his brother and to the community.’”

— Atharva Veda 3:30

As for people who don’t look, talk, or think like us, we can reference Galatians 5:14 (NIV):

“For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”

— Galatians 5:14 (NIV)

As for change—let’s start with self-compassion. Recognizing that we’re capable of accomplishing amazing things, and that fear is no match for perseverance, hard work, and hope. As 1 John 4:18 (NIV) states:

“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, not by making everything easy, but by reminding us of our own strength.”

— 1 John 4:18 (NIV)

The choice we have

Fear and apathy might feel safe, but they are chains. The choice we have is to break free, to choose courage and resilience. To decide that while we can’t control the chaos around us, we can show up, put in the effort, and change the course of our lives. If not for ourselves, we can show up for those—particularly the young ones—looking to us for guidance.

“He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.”

— Friedrich Nietzsche

Thanks for reading.