I’ve been fascinated by fear for a long time — certainly since my own “dark night of the soul” a few years ago, when physical, mental, and spiritual crises collided. But really, it started much earlier.

Like that night in Montgomery, Alabama. I was six, with my two little sisters and a baby brother on the way. Post-dinner Barbi playtime was underway when suddenly my mother shrieked:

“Bob, it’s flying!”

Enter Periplaneta Americana: the American Cockroach. Grotesquely large, lightning-fast on the ground, and — under certain conditions — bomb-like when airborne.

My mother had spotted one high on the wall and launched into attack mode. But instead of scampering away, it leapt, gliding on its huge wings (which now made an ominous humming noise) toward her face.

If fear triggers fight, flight, or freeze: my mom was fighting, the cockroach (whom I later named Perry) was fleeing, and my sisters and I were frozen.

I don’t remember exactly how it ended — probably my dad, the only one not hijacked by his amygdala (and also the only one with some aerodynamic expertise), calmly intercepted Perry and escorted him to his final resting place down the toilet.

Not more than 20 seconds in real time, that scene still plays in my mind like a feature-length film. It reminds me: fear often feels sudden, dramatic, and completely hijacking. And many common work and life situations can trigger it.

So in my quest to help us all stay calm when a Perry unexpectedly flies at our faces, I created this short 4-step practice called FEAR-Less, designed to transform trigger moments into mindful moments. Here it is!

FEAR-Less

• Frame the fear in facts and the present moment. What’s actually happening right now? Not in the unknown future but right now.
• Engage with it. Say hello to fear like the Buddha invited Mara to tea. What sensations does it bring to your body? What story does it tell in your mind? See how it can be fully seen without being put in charge.
• Allow it to transform. Once acknowledged, fear often softens, revealing sadness, curiosity, or even possibility.
• Respond. From this grounded place, what might you say or do next? Speak a heartfelt truth? Take a bold action? Or be still? No response is also a response.

Try it out the next time fear shows up — not in its most traumatic form, but in one of those everyday grabber moments. And let me know what you discover. I’m collecting stories (and keeping an eye out for flying insects.)

Here’s to you facing your fear — and flying through it!