Training Our Fears to Hunt Us

There’s an old survival instinct in all of us…ancient and automatic…that screams, “RUN” whenever we’re afraid.

Run from fear. Run from responsibility. Run from the conversation, the truth, the work, the grief, the courage it takes to stand still and face whatever comes next.

But nature…real life…tells a different story. 

In the wild, there are moments when turning your back is the most dangerous move you can make. Mountain lions don’t always attack what stands its ground. Bears don’t always pursue what remains calm, present, and aware. But when something bolts…panicked, frantic, it flips a switch in nature. Instinct awakens. The chase begins.

The very act of running from your duties transforms uncertainty into certainty. If you stand tall…courageously…you have a chance. If you run… you can be certain you will be chased. And so it is with our inner lives.

The fears we avoid don’t dissolve. They sharpen.

The responsibilities we ignore don’t disappear. They compound.

The truths we refuse to face don’t grow quieter. They grow teeth.

Anxiety feeds on avoidance. Guilt thrives in silence. Unresolved grief is like a wild animal…it learns our scent. 

What we turn away from doesn’t simply wait idly by. It follows, haunting us. It shadows us. It learns us. It gains momentum.

We unconsciously justify or dismiss avoidance as self-preservation. We tell ourselves we’re protecting our peace, buying time, choosing ease over dis-ease. But we’re actually doing the exact opposite. We’re training our fears to hunt us.

In the wilderness, experts say: Don’t turn your back. Make yourself known. Stay present, deliberately, with awareness. Get as big as you can. Back away only when it’s appropriate…only when it serves you. But never out of fear.

Standing still…holding your ground…it isn’t recklessness. It’s presence. It’s making eye contact with what frightens us, getting as big as we can, and being still. It’s a conscious, purposeful pause.  It’s breathing, grounding, and choosing courage and action over short term comfort.

The lesson isn’t aggression versus cowardice. It’s about resolve.

When we face what scares us…honestly, imperfectly, with trembling hands…we often discover that the task at hand was never as powerful as it felt while it lurked behind us. Fear relies on our imagination. Responsibility relies on our action.

In the end, life isn’t a predator…but running away still makes us the prey.