A lion in Hyde Park!!! or the difference between fear and anxiety

Have you ever wondered about the difference between fear and anxiety? Apart from the vague feeling that one doesn't last as long as the other?

Let me set you two scenes that will make it really easy to see.

First scene: you are in Africa, on a safari, walking away from your vehicle (and your guide told you to never, ever do that!), in lion territory, and you suddenly hear roaring. What you feel in that precise moment is fear, in the presence of clear danger.

Second scene: you are in downtown Sydney, about to cross Hyde Park, and you start worrying about lions hiding there. Obviously you know there are no wild lions in Australia. 

But you think to yourself - "there are some lions at Taronga Zoo, one of them could have escaped from there, crossed Harbour Bridge (or swam across) and be hiding right now in the bushes of Hyde Park".

What you're experiencing is anxiety, a diffuse feeling of fear about something that *could* happen, in the sense it is not quite impossible, just highly, highly unlikely. Anxiety is about an imagined (but not necessarily imaginary) danger.

Why is it useful to know the difference?

Because it allows you to respond appropriately. Once you work out when there really is something to be feared, you can take action and protect yourself. 

And by realising when it is anxiety, you can choose to question it and hence get the choice back to do what you really want, in this case walk through the park.

Next time you get that niggly feeling, maybe ask yourself - "is this a lion in Hyde Park or a real danger?"

My "3-legged dog" theory

Welcome to my latest theory - that we are all like 3-legged dogs.

Let me explain. We go through life thinking that people have got a pretty good handle on it, and hence are like 4-legged dogs, fully functional and "best day ever".

And even more, we think that the other people in our life - our partners, our friends, our parents - all are 4-legged dogs too!

And we set our expectations, towards ourself and towards others accordingly. We/they *should be able* to react rationally, to treat us fairly, to learn and of course - gasp - change if necessary.

Well there is my news: we are not 4-legged dogs. Barely anyone is fully functioning. Most of us have an emotional disability, an internal struggle, that allows us only just to run and look at first sight like a complete dog, when really there is a whole limb missing.

Some hide the missing leg better than others. Some take classes in living with the disability (therapy anyone?). But for most of us, we just limp.

Why is it so important to realise that we're only 3-legged dogs? Because it allows us to cut each other, and ourself, some slack. Maybe the other isn't hurting us because they don't care, or because we aren't worth being treated nicely. Maybe they don't do what's good or necessary, because they just can't.

Look around you. The bitchy girl, the bullying guy, the failing partner? Just 3-legged dogs trying to survive in a dog-eat-dog world.

Realising this can help us to let go of our resentments and allow us to feel compassion instead of judgement.

Seeing ourself and others as the fallible human beings that we are gives us back our humanity. We are not superman or superwoman. Most of us are trying hard to be decent. Let's not judge ourselves and each other when we fall short.