Living Boldly Amidst Fear

home insemination Kit

Updated: Aug. 1, 2016

Originally Published: June 20, 2016

I just dropped off my four kids at summer camp, and as I exited the auditorium, a chilling thought paralyzed me: What if someone storms in with a semi-automatic weapon and takes them all?

I found myself imagining this horrific scenario—my youngest wailing for me as her last breaths escaped. The regret of sending my oldest, who’d expressed hesitation that morning, flooded my mind. Would my future self ponder: Was it a premonition? Did she sense something I didn’t? Why didn’t I heed her instincts?

Sitting in the parking lot, I wept under the cheerful colors of the camp flags. This is all too overwhelming. I envy my children for their blissful naivety; they have no idea that anything beyond our delightful vacation two years ago even happened in Orlando. Their world is a simple one, where everything fits neatly like a game of checkers—bad guys are caught, heroes prevail, and no one bursts into a school to harm children. I know that their innocent existence will eventually collide with the harsh reality I face as their mother: Bad things happen. Terrible things occur. And despite our best efforts, control is merely an illusion.

Still, I refuse to live in a world where every decision is weighed against potential danger.

• Is this a likely spot for a violent act?
• Should we sit in the back of the restaurant, near an exit, knowing the front would be the first target?
• Maybe we should just order takeout tonight. Sure, we love dining out, but what if my instincts are right?

Since the Colorado theater shooting, I’ve only seen one movie. I spent the entire time on high alert, waiting for someone to walk in with a weapon. Honestly, I’m embarrassed to admit I can’t even recall the film’s plot. I barely remember the food, and I adore it. I was too consumed by worry, overwhelmed with dread, and gripped by terror.

Terror—exactly what those perpetrators want to instill in me and you. I wasn’t in that Orlando nightclub at 2:30 AM, but with the relentless news cycle, that assailant knows I’ll hear about the atrocity over and over. I scroll through social media, unwittingly witnessing the tragic final moments of someone’s life, and my heart shatters for that woman’s family.

I dive into the internet, searching for explanations about the victims and the shooter, grasping at reasons, knowing deep down that these attempts are futile.

We’ve all heard Mr. Rogers’ famous advice about looking for the helpers. Here’s the truth: that idea terrifies me. To look for helpers means I must stop focusing on the perpetrators. Mr. Rogers understands we can’t look in two directions simultaneously. The problem? I’m not ready to seek out the helpers just yet. I’m still scared, still angry. I’m just so freaking sad.

While I can’t control tragedies in Orlando or elsewhere, I’m confronted with a choice: Will I let despair win, or will I actively seek out the helpers? Will I cling to my horror and fear, or will I forge ahead, embracing risk by going to Target or watching movies? Will I truly live? Will I point out the adorable dog in the car next to us and encourage my kids to wave at the driver, as I would have done in my youth? Or will I question the owner’s hidden intentions? Will I pitch a tent in the backyard for a night under the stars, or forgo that adventure because of the possibility of danger lurking in the dark?

No! I refuse to miss out on the beauty of the stars by concentrating only on the shadows surrounding them.

The next day, we’ll perhaps brave a movie, despite my apprehensions. Maybe I’ll rally the kids up to the ticket counter, urging my shy 11-year-old to take the lead. As I commend her bravery, we’ll step into that theater, despite the chorus of concerns in my mind about staying home.

I’ll teach them the cherished art of selecting the perfect movie seat—a time-honored family tradition. We’ll count rows and chairs to find the ideal middle spot. Is it a prime target for a shooter? Perhaps. But most importantly, it’s the best place for an unforgettable cinematic experience. We’ll settle in those seats, shaking off my worries, focusing on the joy of the moment, and I’ll breathe a shaky sigh of happiness as I pass the popcorn, relieved we arrived early to claim the prime spot. After all, everyone knows that’s where the best seats are.

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Summary

This article candidly expresses the anxiety of a mother navigating a world filled with fear, especially in the wake of tragic events. It emphasizes the importance of living fully and embracing joy, despite the lurking dangers. The narrative juxtaposes the innocence of childhood against the harsh realities of the world while ultimately choosing to seek happiness over fear.