For decades, the threat of potential tragedy hung over Myra Goodman’s life like an impending storm. Long before she became a successful organic farming pioneer and wellness advocate, her inner world was defined by a persistent, background terror of catastrophic loss—most notably, the sudden death of those she loved most.
This pervasive anxiety was not an abstract creation of her mind; it was rooted in the profound emotional legacy of her upbringing. Goodman’s parents were Holocaust survivors who had been orphaned during the devastation of World War II. In that conflict, both of her parents lost almost their entire families, along with every material possession they owned. They survived, but the emotional environment of their home remained deeply saturated with unspoken grief, trauma, and an enduring sense of dread. Goodman inherited an activated nervous system—a psychological and physiological framework perpetually primed to anticipate disaster.
This inherited vulnerability was further compounded during her childhood. Within a brief span of just a few years, three children close to Goodman experienced the devastating loss of a parent. Witnessing the sudden collapse of her friends’ security taught her a frightening lesson at an early age: the people who hold our worlds together can vanish in a single moment. The realization shattered her childhood sense of safety, manifesting in severe panic attacks focused on the potential death of her own parents. For Goodman, mortality did not register as a natural phase of existence; it felt apocalyptic.
Over the years, despite establishing a fulfilling life, Goodman carried this burden of hypervigilance. In recent years, however, through dedicated healing work and intentional practices designed to regulate her nervous system, she began making tangible progress toward living with greater ease and peace.
Then, an unexpected tragedy brought her old fears rushing back.
Seth Pollack—a cherished family friend described by those who knew him as wise, joyous, and extraordinarily generous—was struck by an automobile during a routine morning bicycle ride. He died instantly.
The shock sent ripples through his community and hit Goodman’s inner circle with devastating force. Seth’s wife was one of Goodman’s closest friends, their lives tightly interwoven. Overnight, a vibrant family was plunged into profound grief, forced to navigate a reality without the man who had brought so much light to their lives.
For Goodman, the trauma of Seth’s sudden death unseated her hard-won progress. In an instant, the old terrors returned with full strength. The world once again felt inherently unsafe, menacing, and impossibly fragile.
Yet, as a year passed following Seth’s death, Goodman found that the tragedy was offering her something unexpected. While the pain of his absence remained acute, observing how Seth had lived—and witnessing the brave, honest manner in which his family faced their grief—began to reshape her perspective on life, fear, and mortality.
Accepting the Truth of Impermanence
Seth’s sudden death confronted Goodman with an uncomfortable reality: while her lifelong anxiety had been heightened by early trauma, her underlying fear of loss was not entirely irrational. The truth is that life provides no guarantees. There is no formula or amount of caution that can ensure the people we cherish will be here tomorrow, or that we ourselves will be.
Goodman came to realize that the fundamental conditions of human existence are non-negotiable. No amount of worrying acts as a shield against potential disaster. Constantly fighting against the reality of impermanence is an exhausting and ultimately futile effort.
However, acknowledging that nothing lasts forever carries a dual nature. While the reality of impermanence can initially induce terror, it also possesses the power to illuminate the profound value of the present moment.
Goodman recognized that she faced a fundamental choice regarding how to navigate the remainder of her life. She could remain a prisoner to the terror of inevitable loss, or she could allow the certainty of impermanence to deepen her gratitude for the present—using reality as an invitation to engage with life rather than retreat from it.
Cultivating Presence Instead of Fear
When someone who lived with vibrant generosity passes away, their influence often becomes more pronounced in the memories of those left behind. Their core values shine clearer, offering a blueprint for how to live meaningfully.
In the wake of Seth’s passing, a striking consensus emerged among all who knew him: he had lived a remarkably rich, full, and purposeful life. He was a person who unreservedly embraced the joys of the world while consistently lifting up those around him. Seth lived from a place of faith rather than fear. Goodman realized that he would never want his legacy to inspire those he loved to live more cautiously or fearfully.
Reflecting on his life prompted Goodman to look inward. She began to consider how she would view her own journey when reaching the end of her life. Would she look back and realize she had allowed constant worry to rob her of peace and joy, or would she find a way to cultivate genuine serenity and trust?
Recognizing that logic alone had never successfully dismantled her anxiety, Goodman decided to attempt a gentle mental experiment. Instead of demanding a permanent transformation from the protective, anxious parts of her psyche, she made a smaller, more accessible request. She asked those fearful parts of herself if they would be willing to step aside for just a few hours—to allow her to embody the open-hearted presence that Seth had modeled so effortlessly.
The request was simple: Could we try presence instead of fear for just one afternoon?
When fear began to surface during those hours, Goodman did not try to suppress or battle it. Instead, she acknowledged the anxious thoughts, gently reassuring herself that she could return to those worries later if necessary—just not in that moment. She repeatedly brought her focus back to the present, leaning into physical feelings of relaxation and trust.
The results of this modest experiment were profound. Throughout an afternoon spent engaging in her normal daily routines, nothing in her external world changed, yet her internal experience was entirely transformed. She felt physically lighter and more emotionally open. She found herself engaging more deeply in everyday moments—holding her husband’s gaze longer, singing with uninhibited joy while walking her dogs, and offering warmer, longer hugs to those around her.
The Cost of Living in Fear
This brief shift in focus illuminated a critical truth that had long been obscured by habit: living in perpetual fear inflicts a high cost. Chronic anxiety does not merely cause emotional discomfort; it actively narrows a person’s life.
Fear forces the mind into a state of wariness and suspicion, constantly directing attention toward hypothetical catastrophes while blinding a person to the immediate beauty of what is actually happening. It demands absolute certainty before allowing a sense of safety—a condition that an unpredictable world can never fulfill.
In contrast, trust allows individuals to participate whole-heartedly in existence, embracing life despite its lack of guarantees.
By stepping away from fear for even a few hours, Goodman gained a clear view of how much energy her anxiety had consumed over the decades. Encouraged by the experience, she began integrating this practice into her regular routine. With repetition, setting aside fear became increasingly natural, demonstrating that life becomes vastly richer when hypervigilance no longer dictates one’s focus.
Choosing What to Carry Forward
While Goodman acknowledges the heavy legacy of fear she inherited, her experience following Seth’s death showed her that deep-seated emotional patterns do not have to dictate the future. Individuals retain the agency to choose which internal narratives they will carry forward.
Experiencing the sudden loss of a close friend confirmed her worst fear: tragic loss can occur unexpectedly, and the resulting grief is profound. Yet, the experience also proved that constantly bracing for impact provides no real protection or emotional preparation. It simply drains the joy from the present.
Ultimately, mortality offers a choice in perspective. Where fear insists, "Because I could lose this, I must constantly guard myself," a deeper wisdom responds, "Because I could lose this, I want to fully appreciate and cherish it while I can." The inevitability of loss does not have to serve as an argument for self-protection; it can serve as a compelling reason to love more generously and live more fully in the present.
Myra Goodman is an award-winning author of four books and the founder of Quest for Eternal Sunshine, an online platform dedicated to providing free resources for emotional healing and personal well-being. Prior to her work in self-care and trauma recovery, Goodman co-founded Earthbound Farm, spending thirty years helping build the enterprise from a small backyard garden into the nation’s largest grower of organic produce.
