Mastering Avoidance: True Control Comes from Going Through Fear - Not Around It

by Shelby Castanon

I'm going to start this blog off with a story. In October of 2024, we lost our eldest cat, Reddington. It was sudden. One day we were having a marvelous time discussing grand philosophical ideas, dancing to old hits from our childhood, and sitting down to enjoy some writing I'd done earlier that day. 

Within 24 hours, we'd gotten the news that Reddington was suffering from kidney issues, and by the following morning, he had passed. It was devastating. Reddington was with me through so many milestones. He was there during my first year teaching, through graduate school, and the beginning of Alejandro's and I's relationship; for 10 years, Reddington was there. 

And, then suddenly he wasn't. 

I didn't want to know Reddington was getting older. I couldn't imagine a reality where my bouncing baby boy who used to be so small could possibly now be in his golden years. It was too painful of a reality to face. It was too much to bear. I did not want to hear the words spoken allowed that Reddington was on a finite path. 

If love could have saved him, he could have lived forever. But, that's not reality. It's not our current reality. Nor is it meant to be. He was here to experience this reality of being a cat, experiencing life with us, and then moving on. It would be selfish to demand otherwise from him. 

But, that's what avoidance does. It lulls us into a seduction of false hope and cozy denial, and we hear ourselves denying the reality that we know exists. That's what causes our anxiety -- the dissonance caused by the war in our mind between what we know to be true and what we hope isn't. 

So we took him in to see Dr. Morris. She gave him a thorough look over as well as recommended a full blood and urine panel be done from A&M. We agreed and for 7 days I agonized over what might come up on the results. Would he have a heart murmur? Would he have irreparable thyroid issues? Would we only learn that he was close to the same state as Reddington? 

I finally realized while I waited that it didn't matter what the news was. The difference this time is that despite the fear I had that something would be wrong, I grabbed the fear, looked it in the eyes, and demanded it show exactly me what I needed to be afraid of. 

That's the funny thing about avoidance. It lulls us into a false reality and daydream that only comes full circle to deliver us reality in the most painful and eye-opening ways. It's perhaps the most poignant of human foibles. 

Our refusal to acknowledge what is eventually fosters the the thing we fear the most happening in the worst possible way. 

It's why courage and fear aren't opposites. Avoidance and Courage are the true opposites. Avoidance and courage are responses to fear. I don't think I have ever really seen that until this year. 

Reclaiming Control Through Confronting the Fear

We often think that we can avoid our fears by being in control. We attempt to control situations, people, and ourselves in this quest for perfection because we believe that will keep the fear at bay. The truth, as it often is, is counterintuitive. By looking the fear in the eye, by demanding it show you reality, you are taking control because you are gaining the knowledge you need to actually see what is. 

When we got Willy's results back, we found he had just the barest signs of kidney disease -- three-tenths to be exact. Because I faced the fear, we caught it early. We gathered all the information we needed to change his diet and make changes to slow the disease's progress. What would have happened if I had been avoidant? If I had denied the signs? The thought sickens me because the truth is by hoping for the best, I would have created the worst-case scenario. 

That's the problem with hope, I continue to find. Hope wants results without having to do any work -- without having to confront any fears. Blind hope is avoidance in disguise because that's not how the universe actually it works. Reality can only be changed when we look straight at it without skewing it towards our comfort. 

I wish, more than anything, that I had been taught this as a child: comfort, blind hope, and denial create anxiety. They are not there for my or anyone else's benefit. True security and real hope (the desire for things to improve) come from accepting reality. These decisions come every day in a multitude of ways. Whether things are small like getting some exercise today or deciding to have that vulnerable conversation with someone, they may be uncomfortable but they are far less uncomfortable than the reality you will create by putting them off. 

Even if we can do nothing but stare at the reality and accept it, it is far easier to come to terms with it on your own initiative than when that wave collapses despite how you feel about it. I wish, more than anything, I had done that for Reddington. 

Art Provides Us the Opportunity to Be Courageous or Avoidant

Perhaps the most radical thing we can do as humans is learn to grab fear by the throat and say, "Show me." Fear needs to be called out for what it is rather than allowing it to strangle us. That's what art's true purpose is. It's why art is something to surround ourselves with. 

The kink in the chain is that artists can be avoidant too. 

The power that artists hold is the power to reveal truths that others do not wish to see. We can take reality, mold it into something that humans can experience outside the mind, and offer it to the public. However, those who see our work are also avoidant of reality. They see an artist's work and dismiss it not because it isn't important, but because they are so scared of seeing what is they deny what they are seeing. This causes artists to tailor, diminish, and focus their art on others' approval. The problem with this is the center of the bell curve, the art that garners the most praise is that which keeps the illusion going. The paradox is that the more successful an artist's work is, the more it penetrates the mass market, and the less reality it reveals. 

This does not mean popular art reveals nothing. It does not mean it is worthless. It doesn't mean there are no outliers. But, what art tailored to audiences does is it creates dissatisfaction within the artist creating the work. Artists, by our nature, take reality and say, "Here, look." 

When we create a gap between what we see and what we make, our dissatisfaction with our work and our art careers grows. 

This is why as artists we have a powerful tool to help us learn to use courage. By creating art that is bold, revealing, and uncompromising, we are teaching ourselves how to confront fear in our own lives. That, perhaps, is the greatest benefit of creating art. It is our imperative, not to the world but to ourselves that we create the reality we see without hesitation, without flinching so that in our lives, outside of art, when fear creeps up we may turn and face it head-on, look it square in the eye, and say, "Show me."