Dichotomy, rhetoric, evaluation and empowerment (part 3)

A linguistic element for navigating fear is using evaluative language.

The goal is to create a sense of urgency. To prompt ourselves to critically assess our choices and motivations. Using such phrasing encourages our emotional shift from passive acceptance to active evaluation of our actions and their consequences.

A question we can learn to ask ourselves is this:

Would it serve me more to avoid temporary discomfort here, or confront the unpleasant truths of reality?

Because sometimes there is a simple, fast, easy and cheap solution available. Throw money at the problem, get on with our lives. Love when that happens.

But in periods of profound fear, we have to assess relative benefit. To weigh short term pain versus long term gain. Sure, it’s hard to put on our economist hat when emotions come flooding in and we’d rather shit a brick. But we have to trust the process and learn to love what’s good for us.

As an example, I often get woozy and sometimes pass out at the sight of blood. Not the kind of blood you see in the zombie or boxing movies, since that’s obviously ketchup, but real stuff coming from a real person’s wound. Makes me turn white.

It’s actually genetic. Most men in my family struggle with it. And I remember asking my dad about it recently, if he still passed out from the vasovagal response. His advice was, the older you get, the more needles they have to stick in you. May as we learn how to deal with it.

Now, that is an unpleasant truth of reality that I’d rather avoid. On the other hand, why not get ahead of it? Why not learn to tolerate the temporary discomfort of giving blood and getting shots, while I’m still youngish and healthy?

As my favorite song lyric goes, I used to get old, but now I just age, death’s a bank, and you can’t outflank, because everybody pays.

That’s the evaluation of my reality. My risk of developing health conditions will only increase from here on out.

Preventative care, early detection and timely intervention are more important than feeling woozy while a nurse pricks my arm.