One Knitting Needle

It was December of 1987.  I was 21, traveling with a friend in Northern Ireland.  We were the only guests at a small, rural youth hostel.  As evening approached, we walked the three miles into town, assuming we’d get a cab back.  We listened to live music in a pub until closing.  

There were no cabs.  

The road was dark, absent even of moonlight.  About a half mile out of town, a car pulled up, and an indisputably creepy man offered us a ride to the hostel.  We declined, and he drove off.  My friend panicked.  I remember thinking we’d be OK, but since she was so scared, maybe I should be, too.  A few minutes later, we saw a car approaching, and fearing it was him, jumped to the side of the road and fell into a muddy ditch.  We were now filthy, wet, and panicked, and my friend had injured her knee in the fall.  We were hobbling back to a deserted hostel in the middle of the night in Northern Ireland, and a creepy man knew where we were going.   

My friend had a pair of knitting needles in her bag.  We each took one needle for self-defense.  We made it back to the hostel, searched the place top to bottom, locked the doors, and lay awake for the rest of the night, each clutching a needle. 

This event lives in my memory as one of the times in my life I’ve been most afraid.  Looking back, I wish I’d had the presence of mind to stay focused and calm.  I could have soothed my friend, instead of fueling her fear, and my own.  If I’d done so, we could have probably problem-solved together.  We could have walked back into town to find help.  We could have remembered that there were two of us, and one of him.  At the very least, we could have felt empowered rather than terrified.

Fear and anxiety can be contagious, but so can optimism and serenity.  Even when danger is real, the way we think about it matters.  Learning to soothe ourselves while afraid can seem like an insurmountable task, but it isn’t always.  It’s a cognitive tool which improves with practice.  Shifting our thinking from, “There’s a serial killer out there looking for us,” to “We have each other.  Let’s think about options to stay safe,” would have diminished our terror -- and probably avoided a knee injury as well.

In 1987, our options for help were much more limited than today.  There were no cell phones, internet, or Uber.  But despite all of our interconnectedness, and in some ways because of it, fear and anxiety are profound aspects of daily life today.  The next time you or a loved one are afraid, practice shifting your thinking.  It’ll come in handy when you really need it.