What We Avoid, We Become
How Fear Writes Our Narrative When We Do Not
Have you ever noticed how a person with a particular fear lives in that reality? The table that was left dirty with napkins all over the floor was likely left by the germophobe who was trying to avoid contact and was too afraid to clean it up. People who fear they will say something awkward are so nervous that they stay quiet most of the time, and when they eventually speak, it comes out shaky and uncertain, out of place with the relaxed ease of the rest of the company. The problem with fear is that it feeds on avoidance; the more energy we put into it, the bigger it grows.
For people who suffer from anxiety, it can feel like a never-ending battle. This feeling is merited because it is a never-ending battle; as long as we fight it, it will grow stronger.
It is often recommended that we plunge head-first into our fears, facing them to diminish them in a single swoop, yet it is rarely this easy. Exposure, when we are merely gritting our teeth and bearing through it, does not change the long-term pattern of our fear. We can grow to tolerate our fear to higher degrees, and to truly move past it, we have to clip it at its roots.
The root lies deep in the neural maps of our brain: the relationships we form linking ideas to our identity and how we believe we must act in the world. Much of this runs below the level of conscious awareness, causing us to react before we realize we are doing so and building narratives from chains of emotionally charged moments in our past. Our brains are masters at pattern recognition and network-building, and this often comes at a cost to our emotional well-being.
For our ancestors who lived closer to the wild, these maps helped ensure survival. If the cracking of a twig correlated to a predator even 10% of the time, it was efficient to jump at the sound of a cracked twig, and at other similar sounds, too. Deeper investigation takes time, and that time could mean the difference between a narrow escape and certain death. For us, these maps are typically socially oriented because we are social creatures who thrive in community.
Our brains will tell us where the problems are if we are willing to listen. To do this effectively, we have to become an observer of our own thoughts. Begin to see your thoughts as a radio station tuned to a particular frequency that broadcasts non-stop. The frequency is set by our emotions and patterns of behavior. It isn’t us, but it is influenced by us. We have the capability of altering the frequency at which we operate, but doing so requires practice. Mindfulness techniques, such as meditation, passive thought observation, and thoughtful detachment, can help free us from harsh thought patterns that dominate our field.
As thoughts arise, ask yourself if they are practical. Many thoughts are not practical, yet we identify with them as if they are undeniable truths. Stop identifying with them; study what narrative they are building. Whether a person builds themselves to be a hero or a victim, the narrative is often rooted in fear. Both a hero and a victim need a villain. That villain can be an inner sensation (pain, anxiety), memories, imagined judgment, or a physical person. Once the mind assigns the villain, it recruits the body into a posture of defense.
A fear-based neural map is highly reactive. It decides on actions for us, which we rationalize later, often without realizing we are doing so. The body tightens, attention narrows, and the mind produces a reason that sounds logical. In that moment, avoidance feels like a reasoned decision and relief quickly follows. That relief reinforces the pattern, and the more often we practice it, the bigger the avoidance becomes.
Pay attention any time a spontaneous memory surfaces. This is a connection point in your neural map. Instead of letting this memory run the present story, analyze it. Why, for example, did the memory of you spilling a cup of hot coffee on your boss’s desk arise at that exact moment? What story is it trying to tell you now? The mind is often attempting to protect you from pain by rehearsing pain in advance. It offers an old scene as a warning, then treats the warning as proof.
This is where we must apply forgiveness and acceptance. Look at it as you would another person who was having a particularly bad day and had an embarrassing moment. Would you hold this over them for the rest of their life? Chances are, you would have forgotten it if it were someone else. Extend the same humane lens inward. The purpose of the memory becomes clearer once shame stops steering the interpretation.
“The past and future are present fictions.” (Steven Hayes, A Liberated Mind)
The quote above by Steven Hayes can be used to liberate us from painful narratives. The past carved us, and we are constantly changing and evolving. Stop letting the past continue to write your script. We can stop avoiding our fears by accepting our past as it is, because we no longer have to identify with it.
“Here you are, a sculpture, and yet you resent the chisel that made you.” (Nora Spinnor, The Visitor and the Native manuscript)
There is great wisdom in this quote if we know how to apply it. Mistakes, and even trauma, carved us. Each painful moment shaped us into a stronger person. To stop living in the past, we first have to accept that it happened; then, once we discern its lesson, we can file it into a fiction for the present moment. The lesson stays, and the memory loosens as forgiveness sets in.
Many readers, if they are honest, will find that they are resenting the chisel. Nearly everyone does this because it is automatic. Changing it takes work, and many do not even realize that it can be changed. The work begins with a simple shift: treat fear as a visitor, memory as a messenger, and the present as the only place where choice can be practiced.
Philosophers, alchemists, and psychologists over the past centuries have grasped at this concept in various ways. Pierre de Chardin’s Philosophy of Man described man as an automaton, another way of saying that we function through automatic thought processes, never questioning the narrative that runs in our heads. P.D. Ouspensky, a Russian philosopher, added to this by saying that most people are not conscious; they react, make associations, and repeat cycles, obeying internal prompts as if they are conscious choices (Tertium Organum). Simply put, most people live inside a story without realizing they are writing it.
Avoidance can become a kind of self-hypnosis. The mind produces a sensation, attaches meaning to it, predicts an outcome, then commands the body to retreat. The more faithfully we obey the command, the more “true” the narrative becomes, and soon a person is avoiding fear as a constant tactic. By then, the automaton has become identity. The fear stops being something a person feels and becomes something a person is.
One of the most powerful statements to our brain is “I am the type of person who…” Claim this statement based on values, or your neural network will do it for you. Identity forms through repetition, and the brain learns through through pattern and reward. When avoidance produces relief, relief becomes the primary target, and the identity that matches avoidance becomes the default.
Every time you dodge the conversation, the mind quietly updates the file: I am the type of person who stays silent. Every time you soothe anxiety by backing away, it writes: I am the type of person who cannot handle this. Over time, your life stops being guided by what matters to you, choosing instead what keeps you comfortable for the next five minutes. This is how fear becomes a lifestyle. It rarely arrives as a dramatic collapse; it arrives as a thousand small retreats.
Values reverse that. They do not ask whether you feel ready, only whether the action fits the life you want to build. “I am the type of person who tells the truth with care.” “I am the type of person who shows up even when I am nervous.” “I am the type of person who treats discomfort as a signal, not a verdict.” These statements shift the focus from fear-based ultimatums (“I will never get this right.”) to values-based action, where fear is the passenger, no longer in the driver’s seat. Values create a stable direction and emotions are allowed to rise without altering our course.
Your mind will argue. It will present evidence from the past, predict embarrassment, and demand certainty. Let it speak, then choose. The moment you act in the direction of a value while fear is present, you teach the nervous system a new lesson: I am the type of person who moves anyway. Each repetition builds a new pathway. Each small approach weakens the old rule that fear equals danger.
Expect to “fail” repeatedly when you practice dislodging yourself from a painful narrative. Your neural map will repeatedly recall instances where mistakes were made. Instead of letting it derail you, thank it for the valuable lesson and move on. Avoidance makes it a threat; acceptance turns it into a signal.
Do not expect to ever finish tuning your mental network. The Law of Calibration states that as evolving beings in an evolving universe, we are always adapting to our environment (Netism’s 12 Pillars of Atum). Each new challenge will present new ways for us to avoid painful parts of our history. Growth requires us to accept our pain as the chisel that formed us rather than dwell in its shadow. Calibration is the practice of returning awareness to the present and aligning with our values.
When fear rises, pause and ask three questions:
What am I avoiding?
What story is the mind telling?
What value is being asked of me right now?
Answering these questions and assessing the memories that rise will help point us to the lesson that can eventually free us from the pain.
What we avoid does not stay contained; it expands into roles, rules, and rituals. Fear blocks us from truly living in the moment and experiencing life; kept long enough, it can become our entire identity. Stop letting your fear dominate the script, accept its lessons, and know freedom.
“Let go of the pain after a while. Let yourself grow beyond the suffering you’ve endured and know freedom. … Cherish the present. It’s all we ever really have.”
(Nora Spinnor, The Young Man and the Sage, Chapter 8)
Sources
A Liberated Mind – Steven Hayes
The Young Man and the Sage – Nora Spinnor
The 12 Pillars of Atum – Netism
(Free downloadable pdf of the 12 Pillars can be found here: https://netism.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/The-12-Pillars-Print.pdf)
Some great insights here!