Sitting for Tea with a Neglected Friend: Fear

A client presented a problem to me in a session. He is a professional with technical skills but often has felt in over his head at his job. He does more project management than technical work these days and that does not play to his strengths. He said that he was struggling with a project and that he felt like he was moving into a controlling mode that could damage the project’s success. He said that he felt a need for the project to succeed. I heard signs of fear in what he was saying and I asked him what could happen if the project failed. He expressed concerns that he could be fired if it failed. As I pushed for more detail of the concern, he eventually admitted that if it failed, he could lose his job, which in his mind could ultimately lead to destitution. We have been working together for some time and he has become accustomed to diving into the runaway stream-of-consciousness thoughts that often plague him. I asked if he could find the fear within himself and pay attention to it. He did so hesitantly and was flooded with anxiety, from which he wanted to recoil. I asked him to stay with it and listen. He calmed and we proceeded to discuss the role of his fear.

Listening to emotions is difficult for most of us and some clients struggle more than others. As we explored this fear, I asked him what it was trying to do. He said it made him want to control the work situation. This was an expression of the behavior that he had developed over the years to deal with the consequences of losing control and the risk associated with it. His response to the fear was anger, stating that he wished he didn’t have to experience fear. I related it to the physical pain of touching a hot stove as a warning of physical injury and fear, in this instance, was a warning of a perceived safety and security threat. Unpleasant feelings like physical pain and fear are often very loud so that they can effectively draw our attention and demand a response.

Humans are interesting in that we may have an opportunity to interrupt reflexive and conditioned reactions, process and reflect, and respond in a more considered manner. After explaining this, I asked him to go back to the fear and connect with it. This time he experienced it as more interesting and less threatening. He was then able to see resources that the fear provided, such as more focused attention and energy to motivate problem solving and action. This interpretive and relational shift allowed him to see value in an experience that had been threatening and to which he had responded with avoidance, typically resorting to old conditioned behavior that would, in this case, detract from instead of contributing to his desired outcomes. He then saw connecting with the fear as an opportunity to tap into a source of mindfulness and focused attention that would serve him in responding more effectively in the work situation.

This process has become incredibly relevant to the work that I do as a therapist. Helping clients stay in contact long enough to listen to the stance that an emotion communicates and come to understand the underlying logic of the emotional situation can be a powerful intervention with many clients. Emotions, while often unpleasant and scary, can be interpreted and experienced as having something valuable to offer if given a chance.

It reminds me of a Buddhist teaching story retold by Thich Nhat Hanh about Mara, the personification of self-delusion, asking for an audience with the Buddha. The Buddha’s attendants initially attempt to turn Mara away, but the Buddha invites Mara in for tea and the two commiserate about how difficult things have been for both of them and end the meeting with a compassionate embrace.

It is natural to react to emotions that carry power and threat. But when we can invite them in, sit with them, and listen to their concerns, we can enter a self-compassionate space and, if we are lucky, emerge with a relationship with a long neglected friend.