Sometimes we build a reliable "shield" inside ourselves, which becomes not just a protection but a part of our personality. Once it helped us survive a difficult experience, and then it started to trigger out of habit, without distinguishing between real danger and just something new and unfamiliar.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately and suddenly saw a very clear metaphor. All February in St. Petersburg, people have been walking on the ice of the canals because the frost lasted a long time and the ice became strong. I can imagine that feeling - spaciousness, childish delight, a sense of permissiveness. And at the same time, rationality kicks in very clearly: I'm not ready to trade my perfectly good life for a possible accident of falling through the ice. I stand on the bridge, watching people on the ice, and feel both parts: "I want to go too" and "no, I'm scared." I didn't go. And then I thought: was that a rational, healthy reaction, because there is a risk? Or has my inner over-cautiousness already maximally prevented me from any adventures?

A healthy shield, as I see it now, rests on three things:
Reality: the ice could crack, the cost of a mistake is high
Specificity: protection from certain risks, not from life in general
Flexibility: the decision depends on circumstances, and it's not always the same

Total fear is when the shield turns into a concrete wall. And it no longer matters what it's about: ice, a new job, relationships, a performance, moving - the default answer is one: "don't go!"

If you imagine a scale from total over-cautious to daredevil, where are you right now? I'm still closer to the over-cautious side.
And how easily do you make decisions in new, unfamiliar situations?

#reflections