High on a sense of Danger
“Whether you’re stressed or relaxed, well-being is not about always being safe or fed or comfortable. Rather, it is learning to walk the line between the two, to balance,
to move back and forth between them with ease and grace.”
- Go Wild, Ratey and Manning
I experienced something exquisite over the holidays.
Over the Christmas holiday, I took a few days to head to Kripalu—a yoga retreat center in Massachusetts. I actually didn’t go for the yoga, I went to be in nature. Kripalu is nestled in the Berkshire Mountains with numerous hiking trails extending from the property. I couldn’t wait to wake up my first morning there and head outside.
When I arrived at Kripalu, I saw that all the rain we had been having in New York City was snow up in the mountains. Not discouraged (and not forewarned by the lady at the front desk who happily mapped out the trailhead I was looking for), I set out to find the trail the next morning.
While I have hiked alone plenty of times in my life, there will never cease to be a heightened sense of awareness that quickly accompanies me. It’s the same heightened sense of awareness you might feel when navigating a new city for the first time. In this case, I’m in a new place, alone, as a female, in the cold, entering the woods. Yes, I have cell service, and I’m still on Kripalu’s property—but I sense that I’m on alert, because this is all unfamiliar.
The trailhead was a challenge to find, the trail markings almost non existent, and the trail itself covered in snow. I was too excited to be outside to be discouraged at the outset, and I could hear the cars along a nearby highway which felt comforting. I followed a mishmash of existing footsteps for about 10 minutes until I slipped on some ice and fell straight onto my right knee. Searing pain and fear of a cracked kneecap ensued. I cursed and hobbled in circles until the nature of the pain changed enough for me to decide what to do next. I stayed stubborn and decided to keep meandering. I don’t know if the fall distracted me, or if it was bound to happen, but a few minutes later, I realized I was completely off trail because there were no footsteps in the snow anywhere to be found. The pain in my knee gave way to a kindling fear of possibly being lost. No trail markers, no foot steps, no sound of cars on the highway anymore. I could feel my heightened state of alert evolve from a precautionary awareness to something a bit more desperate. I kept walking around in different directions assuming something would appear eventually. I was right, but not in the way I’d hoped. I came upon footprints that were not of shoes and that were too big to be a dog or a deer. Full on panic. Not in the hyperventilating way someone has a panic attack, but in the way someone experiences a “fight, flight, or freeze” situation. The volume of my senses turned ALL the way up, and every piece of information about my environment that was entering my brain felt like it was being processed to fit into only one of two categories: you are okay, or, you are not okay.
Needless to say, I made it alive. Some likely very short time later (5 minutes? 10 minutes?) I spotted the roof of a house and just beelined for it. I never found the trail, and I came out of the woods into the backyard of a private residence. My sense of relief was immense. While I don’t know this to be factually true, I am 100% convinced that when we say a sense of relief “washes” over us, there is a physiological component at play here. Whether it’s one or multiple hormones, neurochemicals, or both, I believe there might be a flood of something being released somewhere in the body to make us feel at ease again—to restore a more parasympathetic (rest/digest) state after a state of stress.
From start to finish, this story took place over the course of maybe 30 minutes. But the rollercoaster of emotions I experienced within that timeframe caused me to feel almost high when it was over. I experienced stress, and I overcame it. I was rewarded with safety, and a feeling of exhilaration from experiencing the full spectrum of my senses.
Evolutionarily, short term stress was designed to keep us safe. A flood of hormones are released to inform every cell in our body about the state of affairs, our heart beats faster, our airways expand to take in more oxygen, our senses sharpen, stored blood sugars and fats are released to provide the body with as much energy as it may need to sustain this high energy-consuming state of awareness to ensure peak performance throughout the situation (source). There is evidence to show that being exposed to short term bouts of stress like this can strengthen our immune response and contribute to our longevity (source).
Aside from the conversation about short term stress versus chronic stress (which work differently in the body), there’s a note to be written about physical stress versus mental stress. While I don’t think the two can be separated, because anything causing mental stress causes physical stress and vice versa, there is something to be said about the fact that in this day and age, we rarely experience stress that originates from fear of physical danger. Most people don’t put themselves in situations that require them to physically respond quickly. I’m not inviting anyone to place themselves in dangerous situations, but I’d like to argue that a degree of physical uncertainty might be refreshing, a wake up to the system, a chance for our bodies and brains to grow and adapt to such acute stresses which may eventually help us handle other kinds of life stress.
I have 2 other distinct memories of feeling this way in my life. The first one was my first full day navigating Buenos Aires (as a non-Spanish speaking person) where I had decided to live for 3 months—I got completely lost. The second one was during an 8-hour hike through the Swiss Alps by myself with limited trail markers and not a sign of another human for over 5 hours. The experiences don’t have to be so drastic though. Choosing an unfamiliar running route, being lost in a new neighborhood even for a few moments, climbing one hold too far at the climbing gym and having to figure out a way down, a hike with a friend that presents unexpected obstacles—all of these could instill a sense of heightened awareness in a moment that demands increased resources to ensure physical safety. All can be exhilarating, high-inducing, goal achieving experiences that increase our brain and body’s capacity to cope with stress.
Keep moving.