How about in 2024, you “Do it afraid.” If you didn’t make New Year’s resolutions—or have already given up on the ones you made—may I suggest you add this to your goals.

As a solo traveler, there are so many things I have had to do afraid, from taking public transportation in a non-English speaking country that doesn’t even use our alphabet, to ziplining 12 lines through the rainforest and, let me tell you, it doesn’t necessarily get any easier. What happens is, I now have a body of work to refer back to to encourage myself for whatever current situation I am facing. Most of the time, the scenario I have made up in my head hasn’t happened and/or isn’t going to happen.

I’ve been in many situations while traveling where I have been in too deep to get out of it, so I have had to do it afraid.

Recently, I was visiting Northern California and taking the five-mile Perimeter Trail hike around the scenic Angel Island State Park. As always, to ensure my safety before I set out, I researched to learn about the animals there and asked a couple of different people who worked for the park if there were any wild animals that I would encounter. I was told by both sources that the only animals on the island were “deer and moles.” Living in the suburbs, I see deer almost once a week and I could surely outrun a vicious mole. I specifically asked if there were bears or Cali’s notorious mountain lions present, and I was told, “Absolutely not!”

I set out on the hike. About a mile in, the 80+ middle schoolers and their teachers stopped to explore the park’s renowned Immigration Center leaving me, I suddenly realized, alone on the trail. The further along I got, I realized I hadn’t seen any other people in at least two miles. I’ll be honest, I felt foolish for embarking on this journey. I am known for being a solo traveler, but I wouldn’t say I am adventurous. At one point, I considered turning back, but when I passed the next mile marker three, I knew I had forge to ahead.

I did come across some deer, and even made eye contact with them, but they paid me no attention. Nevertheless, I prayed to God that He would keep me safe.

Then I saw it. In the distance about 20 yards from me was a black mass on the ground about five feet wide! A bear!! I just knew that somehow the people who told me there were only deer and moles didn’t realize that, apparently, bears had swam to the island (and coyotes had too, I later learned). I looked harder and saw what appeared to be densely packed black fur. I stopped and panicked.

What was I going to do? I was alone. I hadn’t seen anyone in at least two miles. I wasn’t sure how good my cell service would be. I started picturing the police having to call my daughter and tell her I was in the hospital (or worse) after being attacked by a bear in California. And how long until the next person came and saw me there mangled by a bear? I couldn’t even hear the middle schoolers in the distance. I was literally and figuratively more alone than I’d ever been in life.

What were the five points I’d learned last year about Bear Safety before the guided Glacier National Park hike? Run? Stay still? Scream? Look it dead in the eyes to try and intimidate it? Play dead? I was frozen in place. I immediately remembered my co-worker’s experience of being mauled by a bear in Alaska. After being viciously slammed around by the bear, he went limp and played dead. The bear dropped him and walked off but looked back to make sure my friend really was dead until he was out of sight.

So now, I had a plan. My heart was pounding with dread and fear. Keep walking, don’t run, don’t turn my back, appear fearless, and pray like I’ve never prayed before. Then, play dead if he attacks and slams me to the ground.

As I continued walking past the area but still many yards from him, I could see more clearly and realized that it might not be a bear. Continuing on the trail, I saw another smaller black mass. It was a CHARRED TREE TRUNK!

I stopped in my tracks and shook my head at the entire saga I’d just experienced. My mind had played such a terrifyingly frightening trick. I’d stared death in the face, or so I thought.

How many things have we turned into bears in our mind that are actually tree trunks?

If it’s too late to back out, just do it afraid because it’s very likely to be a tree trunk that you have mentally morphed into a bear. Our minds are wondrous things. We can create scenarios that keep us sedentary in life and prevent us from experiencing all that life has to offer.

Trust experts. Ask wise people who’ve gone before how they survived a situation you’re fearing. It’s sad to think that I might have not gone on the breathtaking walk because I was worried about what might be out there—when there was nothing out there—except the beauty of nature and the most magnificent views of San Francisco and the Bay Area.

What “bear” have you faced? How did you grow as a person from the experience?