The Buffalo Jump: Patience and Faith In The Face of Terror
There is an ancient hunting practice used by many Indigenous peoples of North America known as The Buffalo Jump.
Hunters would carefully guide an entire herd of buffalo toward the edge of a cliff. As panic spread through the herd, each buffalo followed the one before it, unable to recognize the danger until it was too late. The momentum of fear became stronger than the awareness of safety. The herd charged forward, carrying itself toward certain destruction.
I've often wondered, what would it have felt like to stand on that plateau:
To hear the thunder of thousands of hooves shaking the earth beneath your feet.
To feel the ground vibrate.To watch a wall of muscle, horns, dust, and instinct charging directly toward you.
Your body wouldn't ask for evidence.
It would simply declare, "This is an emergency."
Your Old Mental Muscle would awaken instantly. Run. Fight. Jump. Do something.
…Anything but this.
Our nervous systems are beautifully designed to keep us alive. Unfortunately, they are also designed to react to perceived danger just as intensely as actual danger. Anxiety, panic, relationship conflict, difficult conversations, uncertainty, rejection, grief, and shame can all convince us that catastrophe is moments away.
How often do we become part of the herd?
How often do we follow fear simply because everyone else—including the thoughts inside our own heads—is running?
Standing Like the Tree
Now imagine something different. Imagine yourself standing alone near the edge of that plateau. The buffalo are coming. The noise is deafening. The dust fills the air. Everything inside your body screams for movement.
Charge the herd.
Lay flat.
Leap from the cliff.
Every option feels urgent.
Every option promises relief.
Yet every one of them carries its own destruction.
Now imagine another choice.
Stand. Stand completely still. Feet planted. Arms extended outward and upward.
Like a solitary tree rooted deep into the earth.
The buffalo are not charging you. They are charging toward what they believe they must follow.
And just before reaching you...
The herd naturally separates. Flowing around the tree. Continuing toward the cliff.
The tree survives because it never became part of the panic.
Anxiety Wants Participation
One of anxiety's greatest tricks is convincing us that movement equals safety.
Send another text.
Check your phone one more time.
Explain yourself again.
Argue louder.
Quit the job.
End the relationship.
Cancel the plans.
Escape the discomfort.
Our Old Mental Muscle tells us that if we just do something, we'll finally feel safe.
Sometimes we do.
More often, we simply reinforce the belief that anxiety was correct.
The next time uncertainty arrives, our nervous system remembers:
"Last time we escaped."
"We should escape again."
This is how the Old Mental Muscle grows stronger.
Building New Mental Muscle
New Mental Muscle asks something profoundly different. Can you remain present while fear tells you to run; not forever. Just for this moment.
Can you ask yourself one of the tools we've discussed before?
"Is This An Emergency?"
Not emotionally. Factually. Has something terrible actually happened, or is your nervous system preparing you for something that hasn't occurred? The answer isn't always comforting, but it is often clarifying.
Faith Is Not Certainty
People often mistake faith for confidence. They're different.
Confidence says:
"I know how this ends."
Faith says:
"I don't know how this ends, but I trust my ability to meet whatever comes."
That trust is built one small decision at a time.
One uncomfortable conversation.One difficult boundary.One anxious evening that passes without needing reassurance.One moment of remaining still while your body begs you to flee.
This is where Notating becomes important.
Notice it. Write it down. Celebrate it.
Perhaps no one else saw your victory today, but you did, and we are our own greatest source of validation. You remained standing. Your nervous system learned something entirely new.
Self-Awareness Changes the Story
The Tool of Self-Awareness invites us to become curious rather than reactive.
Ask yourself:
What am I afraid will happen?
What evidence supports that fear?
What evidence does not?
Am I responding to today's reality or yesterday's experiences?
Which mental muscle is asking me to move right now?
Sometimes our greatest act of courage isn't speaking louder. It isn't fighting harder. It isn't proving ourselves. Sometimes courage is refusing to let fear decide.
The Buffalo Continue On
Life will always have charging buffalo. Deadlines. Medical tests. Conflict. Heartbreak. Financial uncertainty. Parenting. Loss. Relationships.
There will always be moments when your body believes the only answer is immediate action.
Sometimes action is necessary. Sometimes it isn't. Learning the difference is wisdom. Standing still is not surrender. Standing still is not weakness. Standing still is an act of extraordinary courage when every fiber of your being insists otherwise.
Like the lonely tree rooted upon the plateau, you may discover that what appeared to be charging directly toward you was never truly about you at all.
The fear passes. The dust settles. The ground becomes quiet again.
And there you stand.
Not because the danger disappeared, but because you trusted yourself enough to remain rooted until the truth revealed itself.
That is patience. That is faith. And, sometimes, that is exactly what saves us.
Chris Lauzon, LICSW
Therapist
Boston, MA
