When fear stops you at the moment you're ready to act
Fear is healthy.
It's one of the ways our minds tell us to pay attention. Something may be dangerous. Something may have changed. We may be missing information. There may be a safer way to accomplish what we're trying to do. Perhaps what we're considering isn't worth the risk.
Sometimes fear should make us stop.
That's why I'm not fond of the advice: Feel the fear and do it anyway.
That can be reckless.
If I'm climbing and suddenly become afraid because I notice the rock above me is loose, I shouldn't ignore the fear and keep climbing because I've decided I'm going to reach the top.
I should stop.
Maybe I need to find another route. Maybe conditions have changed. Maybe I need different equipment. Maybe I should turn around.
Fear gave me information worth considering.
But there's another kind of moment. You've considered the risks. You've gathered the information available to you and prepared. You've decided you want to do it, you arrive at the moment when you actually have to act, and suddenly you're scared.
Nothing has changed.
You haven't discovered a new danger or learned something that would cause you to reconsider the decision. The thing you decided to do has simply become real.
Now you have to take the first step.
That's the kind of fear my conversation with firewalking expert Dave Albin got us talking about.
Fire Is Real
Dave Albin spent two decades working with Tony Robbins and eventually became responsible for his firewalks around the world. His own experience with firewalking began in 1995, when a friend invited him to a Tony Robbins seminar. Only after buying the tickets did his friend mention one additional detail:
They were going to walk on fire.
Dave wanted nothing to do with it. He planned to attend the seminar, and skip the firewalk. After spending the day at the event, he was still looking for a way out. As thousands of people headed outside for the walk, Dave's strategy was to disappear into the crowd, and to hide in the back.
His fear wasn't irrational - the coals were hot. Dave described them as 1,000 degrees and explained that the way the fire is prepared matters. After the wood burns, large pieces of coal are broken down, and the fire lane is prepared.
I know about the risk. I have firewalked myself. When I firewalked, I deliberately walked slowly, as to not cheat myself out of the experience by walking as fast as I could to get it over with. A hot coal became lodged between my big toe, and I ended up with a blister.
Dave explained to me that the fire shouldn't have contained a chunk large enough to become trapped that way. The lesson isn't, fire isn't dangerous, and it certainly isn't, Ignore your fear and walk across the coals.
The lesson is about what happened, once Dave found himself standing in front of them.
When the Thing You've Decided to Do Becomes Real
Dave got close enough to watch. He saw people walking across the coals. One after another, they were making their way to the other side, apparently unharmed.
Eventually Dave found himself at the front of the line, the coals in front of him. He could see them glowing. He could feel the heat. His heart was pounding. It was his turn.
That's a moment most have experienced in some form.
You decide you're going to give the speech. Then they call your name.
You decide you're going to apply for a job. Then you have to press, Submit.
You decide you're going to climb the route on the mountain. Then you're standing underneath it looking up.
The decision to be there, and the action required to take the first step, feel different. That's when fear can stop us in our tracks.
Focus on the Task, Not the Fear
As Dave stood there looking at the glowing coals, the trainer yelled, "Eyes up!"
Part of Dave's preparation had been learning not to stare at what he feared. I translate that into meaning: Focus on the task, not the fear. That doesn't mean pretend the danger doesn't exist. The danger was considered before the decision. If something new appears, reconsider. If nothing has changed, except how afraid you feel, recognize that.
Don't confuse increased fear at the moment of action, with new information about the decision you made. The fire didn't suddenly become hotter because Dave was standing in front of it. It became more real.
Someone Else's Experience Can't Give You Yours
Dave could watch hundreds of people walk across the coals. He could see them reach the other side, talk to people who had done it. He listened to experienced trainers, and learned how the fire was prepared. He was told what to do. All of that was information he used in deciding whether he wanted to participate.
There was one question none of it could completely answer:
What's going to happen when I put my foot on the coals? Other people's experiences could inform his decision. They couldn't give him his experience.
Before taking that step, Dave could imagine all kinds of possibilities.
He'd burn his feet.
He'd panic.
The experience would be nothing like people said it was.
Everyone else could do it, and he couldn't.
Those possibilities existed in his mind. Thinking about them wouldn't resolve them. He had reached the boundary of what he could learn without acting.
He had to step.
The First Step Creates New Information
Eventually the trainer told Dave to go, and Dave stepped onto the coals.
He described what happened next: "When you take the first step, oh, you'll take the second, third, fourth and fifth." There's a strong incentive to keep moving, when you're standing on hot coals.
Something else happened.
Before taking the first step, Dave had predictions.
After making it, he had experience.
My foot touched the coals.
Then I took another step. Then another.
The first step gave him information that no amount of watching someone else could provide. That's something we sometimes overlook when we're afraid. We naturally want more information before acting. Often that's exactly what we should get. Research it. Ask people. Prepare. Practice. Test the idea under safer conditions.
We reach a point where the information we're missing cannot be obtained through more thinking. It exists only on the other side of action.
You can ask ten people what happened when they started a business.
None can tell you what will happen when you start yours.
You can talk to people who changed careers.
They can't tell you if you will like the new career.
You can ask people what happened when they approached someone they wanted to meet.
They can't tell you what that person will say to you.
Their experience matters.
Someone else's experience can't provide yours.
If you want the remaining information, you have to step.
Taking the First Step Isn't the Decision.
I'm not suggesting that when you're afraid, you should take the first step.
Taking the first step comes after the decision.
The sequence should look as this:
Fear → Pause → Investigate → → Decide → Prepare → Step
At any point before deciding, the answer may be, No.
Or, not yet.
Or, there's a better way.
Fear may cause you to discover something that changes your mind. Good. That's OK. That's what you wanted the pause to accomplish.
Suppose, however, you investigate the fear, understand the risk as well as you reasonably can, prepare for it, and decide: Yes. I want to do this. Then you arrive at the moment of action and your heart starts pounding.
That's Dave standing in front of the coals.
At that point, ask one more question:
Has anything actually changed?
If the answer is yes, reconsider your decision before making a step.
If the answer is no, you may are experiencing the difference between deciding to do something, and actually doing it.
Fear Can Stop You From Getting the Information You Actually Need
Sometimes fear tells us we don't have enough information to proceed. Sometimes the information we're missing can only be obtained by proceeding.
Suppose I want to invite someone onto my podcast. I'm afraid they'll reject me. I can research the person, and decide whether they're appropriate for my show. I can write a thoughtful invitation, and ask someone else whether the email I'm drafting sounds reasonable. Eventually I wil have exhausted any type of useful preparation, and there will still be one important piece of information missing. I don't know:
Will they say yes?
There's only one way to find out.
Send the email.
Dave brought this up. He pointed out that me contacting him required accepting the possibility that he could say no. Fear of rejection couldn't prevent Dave from rejecting me. It could only prevent me from asking Dave. If I never asked, I would remain safely uncertain forever.
The Thing Dave Feared Became the Thing He Was Known For
Dave's first step across the coals didn't just get him to the other side of the firewalk. The experience interested him such that he began volunteering at Tony Robbins events. Initially, Dave paid his own airfare, lodging, food and other expenses to participate. Then he became a subcontractor, and years later, Robbins put him in charge of his firewalks, globally.
Google contacted him about creating an experience for a group of executives.
Dave established his own company, and began bringing these experiences to other organizations.
The thing Dave had been afraid to do, became the thing he was known for doing.
I don't want to turn that into a motivational formula. Taking the first step doesn't guarantee that something extraordinary will happen to you. Dave could have walked the fire and never done it again. He could have volunteered and never been hired. His later business could have failed.
The first step didn't guarantee the outcome. It did something much more modest and defensible.
It allowed Dave to discover what came next.
Had he never stepped onto the coals, that particular chain of events couldn't have unfolded. He couldn't know where the first step would lead. He had to take it and find out.
What Fear Prevents You From Discovering
There's a better way to respond when fear appears.
Listen to it.
What am I afraid of?
Then ask:
What do I know?
What am I assuming?
Is there information I should obtain first, before deciding?
Is there a safer or better way to do this?
Has something changed that should cause me to reconsider my decision?
Maybe you stop.
Maybe you choose another route.
Maybe you wait until you know more.
Maybe you decide the objective isn't worth the risk.
Maybe you decide to proceed.
If you decide to proceed, don't expect the decision to make the fear suddenly disappear. You may find yourself standing at the edge, staring at the fire. That's when a question becomes useful:
Has anything changed since I made my decision, or am I afraid now because I actually have to do it?
If something changed, reconsider.
If nothing has, focus on the task ahead.
There are things research can't tell you, things planning can't tell you, things thinking can't tell you, things other people's experience can't teach or tell you.
The only information you're still missing at that point is what happens when you take the first step.
Someone else's experience can't give you that.
You have to step.
Editor's Note
This article is based on my podcast conversation with Dave Albin. The ideas discussed here originated in that conversation, while the structure, emphasis, and commentary are my own. Any errors or interpretations are mine, not Dave Albin's.
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About the Author
Daniel Stih (danielstih.com) is an aerospace engineer, software engineer, indoor environmental consultant, and author of 12 books. For more than 30 years, he has investigated complex problems spanning engineering, technology, the built environment, and human decision-making. His work explores how evidence, assumptions, and systems shape the conclusions we draw—and whether we're solving the right problem. Learn more about his approach in Why I Think This Way.