Beware of gators
you need to overcome fear in order to grow
On Memorial Day weekend, I loaded up our minivan and headed straight down Interstate 55 to a small town just outside of New Orleans.
I’ve now been in Louisiana for a week and a half. I’ve learned a lot of important lessons. I wanted to share some with you.
1. If you see a truck drive onto a lawn and two men emerge with their shirts off, carrying gas tanks and missing half their teeth, do not ask them what they are doing under any circumstances.
2. There is such a thing as too many beignets (I know, I know. Just trust me).
3. Don’t be afraid of alligators.
I don’t have space to fully explain all three lessons, but I want to talk about alligators.
As Anna and I were packing for our trip, I was considering bringing my inflatable kayak – the same one I rowed to the office. We are staying at a house on a canal leading to Lake Pontchartrain, so it could have been a lot of fun. But then Anna reminded me Louisiana has gators, and the idea of floating above alligators in a tube that could pop gave me pause. I left the kayak at home.
We arrived at the house, and it was a one-room shack up on 30-foot-tall stilts. It was literally above water and sways as boats went by. We climbed the stairs, and I looked over the railing: below our house, floating in the canal, was an alligator.
Shivers went up my spine.
I felt like Capt. Hook looking off the deck of the Jolly Roger and seeing the crocodile with the clock in its belly. Ticktock. Ticktock.
I turned to Fiona and instructed her she was never to leave the house without us.
But was this any way to live?
Eight years ago, I had a similar feeling. I was driving to Rockford, Illinois, to deliver a speech on pension reform. I walked into a 2,000-seat auditorium, went on stage and I could feel the heat from the lights shining down on me. I looked into the audience: Three people had showed up.
I started sweating. And I’m not talking about a little bit of sweat. Drops of sweat were dappling my prepared speech.
In case you think fear distorted my memory, the usher came to me after and said, “I felt so bad for you up there. I thought about bringing you a handkerchief.”
From then on, I worked hard to avoid public speaking. I made up excuses about why I couldn’t make events. I asked other people to fill in for me.
I let fear dictate my life.
We had a meeting, and John Tillman told me he was thinking about promoting me. But he said, “You need to work on your public speaking. You’re OK, but you could get better.”
Fear was holding back my career and my dreams.
I needed to face my fear head-on. I hired a speaking coach. I took every opportunity to deliver speeches. I spent many mornings prepping speeches in my office in front of an iPad and Orphe. I painfully watched my delivery, looking for ways to improve.
It paid off. I’m not afraid of public speaking anymore. I now crave it.
G.K. Chesterton has a great quote: “Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children that dragons can be killed.”
We teach this lesson to children, but we forget it when we are adults.
Dragons are real. They are our fears. Ignoring them and pretending they don’t exist will never make them go away. It makes them worse.
I was talking with a friend who lives in New Orleans. I asked him, “How worried should I be about alligators?”
He looked at me and said, “Don’t be afraid of alligators. I wouldn’t try to fight one of them, but no alligator has ever killed a person in Louisiana. Ever.”
What?
It’s true. Alligator attacks are insanely rare. They want nothing to do with humans. In the entire United States, an alligator kills a person every other year – and it usually involves a person trying to protect their dog.
You have a greater chance of dying by sitting on the beach, and getting bonked in the head with a coconut. Each year, worldwide, 150 people die from falling coconuts. That doesn’t mean we should abandon pina coladas under palm trees.
I turned to Anna and Fiona, and told them we should venture out from our floating home.
We borrowed the neighbors’ kayaks. We had a blast floating and splashing. We went swimming and fishing.
Fear is not controlling our lives.
If your fear of alligators or something else is holding you back, seek some perspective. There are few reasons to be afraid of alligators, and lots of reasons to paddle out.