First, a fun fact about this post: it was originally going to be called ‘Overcoming fear: climbing despite a fear of heights.’ I had even started writing it and was very proud of my introduction. But now it has turned into this article about saying no. So you can probably imagine what happened.
The background to “Saying NO: an art form”
I'm afraid of heights. Or afraid of falling, depending on how my brain feels at the moment. Looking down vertically from Top of the Rocks in New York into the canyons of New York streets? No (or very little) problem. Standing on the top rung of a ladder and getting a suitcase out of the cupboard? Brrr, horrible.
Most of the time, my fear of heights/falling doesn't bother me. But it does come up again and again when I'm hiking. There are some wonderful via ferrata routes that I would really like to tackle, but I don't. For that very reason. So I decided to cure my phobia. And I did so using classic desensitisation: eyes closed and go for it!
I asked my friend Nina to do me a favour. Favour = asking friends to do something they don't feel like doing.
It is important to note that Nina is an accomplished mountain runner and an excellent alpine climber. She immediately threw herself into the planning with great enthusiasm and selected a ‘beginner's via ferrata’ for us, i.e. one that is supposedly quite easy: the one on the Drachenwand at Mondsee.
The pièce de résistance: the Drachenwand
The Drachenwand via ferrata has a maximum difficulty rating of C. For those of you who don't know what that means: the scale starts at ‘A’ (very easy), and “C” is the first level that is classified as ‘difficult’. In plain language: a vertical rock face that you traverse on steel pins while holding on to a steel cable. My personal horror and occasional recurring nightmare.
Nevertheless, at least between the pre-anxiety attacks, I was quite confident.
Martina's state of mind: ‘Don't be so silly,’ I said to myself, ‘If others can do it, so can I!’
No sooner said than done: Nina and I set off for the Drachenwand on a glorious sunny Thursday in June. When we arrived, a group of four pensioners (aged 70+) were just setting off.
Martina's state of mind: fluctuating between ‘OMG, these ladders are steep’ and ‘Pffffh, pensioners. What's stopping ME from doing it!’
The group of older gentlemen was really charming, by the way. They called down to us from the ladder that this was their first via ferrata. They were very proud that they were tackling it at their age. Hats off to them, by the way! I want to be like that at their age, both physically and mentally!
Since the four of them weren't exactly the fastest, we used the time to strap ourselves into our via ferrata sets.
Martina's state of mind: The via ferrata set is in place, and there are pensioners ahead of me on the path. I can do this. Do I really have to do this? Why did I come up with such a stupid idea? I don't want to! But I'm going anyway!
Here we go.
Nina climbs up the first ladder, scaling the rock vertically and nimbly, and gives me tips on how to master it. Ten seconds later, she's at the top. Did she even clip in? Probably. The pensioners are nowhere to be seen; they've already made it through the rock passage via the ladders. I feel sick. I climb up to the ladder and hold on to the rungs.
Martina's state of mind: ‘All or nothing. Once you climb up there, there's no turning back. There's no halfway point, and there are too many people behind you to be able to turn back. Do it or leave it.’
Nina is already hanging on the second ladder and jumps up. At the top, she turns around and encourages me. She calls out to me again, explaining how to attach the carabiners.
‘I'm not thinking about the carabiners,’ I call back. ‘I'm thinking about whether this is really a good idea!’
No. Just say no!
The decision is made. I let go of the ladder. My pride takes much less of a hit than I feared. In fact, it doesn't take a hit at all. That surprises me. I climb down and unclip the carabiners from the rope. The next group is already waiting to start. I explain to them that I chickened out because I'm afraid of heights. And because it was my first via ferrata. And because it was a stupid idea. My pride still hasn't kicked in. And no one makes a stupid comment. Except for ‘If you're a beginner, maybe you should try a different via ferrata,’ no one really cares that I'm too scared to go.
I take off my via ferrata set while Nina comes back down to me. I feel bad for her and offer to take the hiking trail while she takes the via ferrata so we can meet up again at the top. But she declines and is looking forward to hiking with me. ‘I think it's great that you said no at the right moment,’ she says. ‘That's an art in itself.’
And I realise:in the past, my pride would probably have killed me for chickening out. But I've grown old enough not to have to justify myself to myself. This task wasn't right for me at that moment. It had less to do with cowardice or laziness than with realistic self-assessment. Physically, I could have mastered the climb. But what good would it do me to hang on a wall, frozen with fear? Who would that help? Certainly not me.
Saying no is perfectly fine!
I firmly believe that it is good to set goals, (especially) those that take us out of our comfort zone. How else are we supposed to develop further?
But at the same time, it is also up to us to recognise when it is too much. It may just be due to how we feel on that particular day, in which case we can think about it again the next day. Or it may simply not be possible – as in my case. Yes, I could have pushed myself through it, and I would have been incredibly proud of myself afterwards. But is that feeling enough to get through two to three hours of pure fear? Not for me.
A plea to listen to your own feelings
The topic itself is completely irrelevant. Is it about venturing on a real backpacking trip without any planning, when you've only ever been on package holidays before? Is it about giving up a secure job for a new job that sounds great but could turn out to be a failure?
There will always be people who view tasks that you cannot accomplish as easy and cannot understand why you fail at them. But at the same time, each of us has things that are completely easy and natural for us – but insurmountable obstacles for other people.
So, say no more often, without hurt pride or feeling like you've failed! It's our comfort zone and fear zone, and that means it's our boundaries and our decision how we deal with them!
By the way: someday I'll get to do my via ferrata! Maybe when I'm 70, like the nice group of pensioners in front of me! 🙂
