Robin Ferrier - One Small Step

07/11/2025

Sometimes a fear begins its journey in one place, and ends up somewhere completely different.

Imagine two trains passing each other at the same moment.
On one train, something painful happens, heartbreak, illness, loss. On the other, you’re flying, or driving, or doing something entirely unrelated. But as those two trains rush past, your subconscious, always alert, always trying to protect you, mixes up the tracks.

Now the fear that belonged to the first train has quietly jumped onto the other one.

Months or years later, you find yourself afraid of flying, or travelling, or something that never used to bother you. You tell yourself it’s irrational, but it isn’t. It’s associative conditioning: your brain linking two events that happened at the same time and deciding they’re the same danger.

The amygdala, the brain’s alarm system, doesn’t care about logic or timelines. It just remembers: this felt bad, avoid it.

That’s why so many intelligent, capable people find themselves stuck with fears that make no sense. They’re not weak. Their minds are simply doing their best to protect a heart that once hurt deeply.

The beautiful part?
Once you see how the trains got switched, once you realise where the fear really began, you can gently move it back to its rightful track.

Because what was learned in fear can be unlearned in safety.

06/11/2025

An Uprising in Happiness

🎵 Inspired by “Human” – Rag’n’Bone Man

There comes a time when a person must look at their reflection and tell the truth.
Not the polite truth we serve to survive the day
but the one that trembles in the bones:
I am tired of pretending to be more than human.

The world taught us to wear armour so heavy
we mistook its weight for worth.
We learned to call exhaustion achievement,
and silence strength.

But happiness was never the prize for perfection.
It is the birthright of the breathing
of those who have fallen and risen again,
who have loved in the ruins,
who have wept and still chosen to see beauty.

The revolution we need is not in the streets,
but in the soul
a rising up of gentleness,
a refusal to apologise for tenderness,
a declaration that to feel is not failure,
and to hope is not naïve.

Because when you begin to love the human in you
the messy, aching, radiant human
you give the world permission to do the same.

🎵 “Don’t put your blame on me,” he implores.
No.
Put your faith in you.
You are not broken.
You are becoming.
And its beautiful.

05/11/2025

Imagine the Situation…

It’s the week before Christmas. Bob, Ted, and Dave are headed for a skiing trip in Chamonix. Ted and Dave don’t mind flying. Bob does. Their journeys couldn’t be more different, and the contrast tells a story about time, cost, and stress.

🚗 Bob: Tightens his gloves, grips the wheel. London traffic, then Dover. Ferry lines, paperwork, winter roads. Coffee stops, tolls, map checks… fatigue creeping in. Every mile feels endless. His mind flickers between excitement for the slopes and the hours ahead.

✈️ Ted & Dave: Walking through Heathrow, coffee in hand, laughing. Security, boarding, takeoff, clouds below, mountains ahead. An hour later, they land in Geneva. Bags collected, a taxi whisks them to Chamonix. They arrive relaxed, energy intact, already imagining their first run.

🎬 Split-screen: Bob counting miles, fuel, ferry cost. Ted & Dave splitting the taxi fare...chilled.

Bob is stressed and exhausted already dreading the return journey. Feels a bit left out.
Ted and Dave arrived ages ago and are relaxed, happy and now part of the scene.

Financially the result is almost equal, but the non-financial “cost” tells a different story.

⏱ Time: Bob ~13 h | Ted & Dave ~4½ h
💷 Cost: Bob ~£269 | Ted & Dave ~£275 each
🧠 Non-financial: Bob = fatigue, stress, effort, risk | Ted & Dave = comfort, peace, energy

Sometimes the real cost of not flying isn’t pounds… it’s time, energy, and experience. 🌄

04/11/2025

Sometimes fear of flying isn’t about the plane at all.
It’s the memory of someone else’s fear that they unwittingly passed on to you.
Your parent’s tense shoulders, the way they gripped the armrest, the nervous laugh when turbulence hit. You felt it. You didn’t understand it. But your body remembered.

Even now, years later, your stomach tightens as the engines roar. Your chest aches. Your mind races, imagining disaster, and yet, it’s not the plane. It’s the echo of that old fear, buried deep in your nervous system, whispering: “Be careful. Stay alert. Something could go wrong.”

Here’s the secret most people don’t know: what was inherited can be released.
Through gentle guidance, your mind can learn safety. Your body can remember calm. That frightened child inside you can finally breathe.

One day, stepping onto a plane won’t trigger panic. It will feel like stepping into freedom, a freedom you’ve always deserved.

03/11/2025

There comes a moment in life when we realise how long it’s been since we felt truly alive.
Not just functioning, not just coping, but quietly radiant inside.
For many of us, joy became something distant… a memory, or a story other people seemed to live.

But joy was never lost. It was only waiting.
Waiting for us to stop running from our pain long enough to remember that both can exist — side by side.
That even through grief, fear, or disappointment, there can still be small miracles unfolding.

Joy doesn’t arrive like a thunderclap. It comes softly.
At first, it feels almost fragile, like a bird landing on your open hand.
A moment of warmth in the chest. A single deep breath that feels safe again.
A flicker of possibility where only exhaustion lived before.

And when it begins to grow, you notice yourself changing.
You smile more easily. You forgive more readily.
You look up at the sky, and it feels wider somehow.
You begin to reach out, to friends, to strangers, to life itself.

Joy changes how we move through the world.
It loosens the armour we’ve carried for years.
It teaches us to breathe again, to notice the light, to be kind, not because we should, but because it feels natural.

When we allow joy back in, it reshapes everything.
It doesn’t erase our pain; it redeems it.
It turns every scar into a place where light can enter.

And in that moment, that quiet, trembling moment when we realise we can still feel wonder,
something within us whispers, “I remember this. This is who I really am.”

Joy isn’t the destination. It’s the way home.

02/11/2025

We tell ourselves we fear nothing. We stand tall, speak loud, and dare the world to challenge us. And because we act it, we believe it. But fear is always there, quiet, patient, relentless.

It hides behind avoided conversations, missed chances, and the things we pretend don’t matter. It lives in the opportunities we don’t take, the love we don’t allow, the joy we mute. Every day spent pretending we are fearless is a day spent small, distant, alone. Every smile is a mask, every triumph hollow, every heart untouched.

The cost is life itself. The deeper the denial, the heavier the weight.

And here is the hardest truth of all: life is not meant to be painless. Painlessness is not peace; it is absence. It is the slow suffocation of everything that makes us human. To feel deeply, to ache, to tremble, to long, to lose, is the proof that we are alive. Pain and joy are twins; one cannot exist without the other. When you close yourself to fear, you close yourself to love, to laughter, to wonder.

Courage is not the end of pain. It is the beginning of life. It is the quiet decision to live with the ache, and through it, to find something real, raw, and unbreakably human.

01/11/2025

There are some people who live under a quiet terror, a fear so intimate that they do not speak it aloud. Fear of flying is one such terror. It is silent. Invisible. And because it is hidden, the world misunderstands it.

They are judged, often harshly. Friends whisper “lazy,” colleagues roll their eyes, family sighs with disappointment. “Why can’t you just get on the plane?” they ask, unaware that what lies behind the refusal is not laziness or arrogance but trembling hands, racing hearts, a mind screaming in panic. And so the person hides, ashamed not just of the fear itself but of the way the world will see them if it finds out.

Shame is a heavy companion. It whispers that they are weak, that they are defective, that they are less than others. They conceal their fear because to reveal it is to invite pity, judgment, ridicule, or worse, disbelief. And in hiding, they suffer twice: the terror of flying, and the terror of being exposed.

This secret comes with a price. Vacations not taken. Jobs passed over. Family gatherings missed. Opportunities vanish, unnoticed except by the one who bears the burden. And in the quiet of the night, in the stillness of the soul, shame festers. It tells them they are alone, that no one could ever understand.

But fear is not a crime. Fear is not failure. Fear is human. And yet, living in silence, carrying this fear alone, is a slow erosion of the spirit. The shame does not belong to the fearful, it belongs to a world that misunderstands them, that condemns them for something they cannot control.

To speak the fear aloud is to begin to free oneself from it. To seek help is to reclaim life, to step into the world unburdened by secrecy and misjudgment. The world may never fully understand, but the person who confronts their fear will know: they are not weak. They are not flawed. They are human. And that is enough.

31/10/2025

We joked last night and called last month “F..Ktober.”
And while it made us laugh, there was a truth beneath it, a sense that life has felt heavier lately.
The bills, the news, the politics, the pressure. Everywhere you look, someone or something seems to be asking for more of you, more patience, more energy, more faith.

And even the strongest of us are feeling it.
The weariness.
The quiet frustration.
That ache to switch it all off and just hide from the noise.

But here’s what I want you to remember:
When the world feels loud, it’s not a sign you’re breaking, it’s a sign you’re alive, conscious, aware, present.
You’re noticing. You’re feeling. You still care.
And that sensitivity, that capacity to feel deeply, isn’t a weakness. It’s proof that you’re human in a world that’s forgetting what that means.

There’s power in that.
Because the same heart that feels overwhelmed is also capable of profound calm.
The same mind that’s tangled in worry can learn clarity again.
And the same soul that’s tired of surviving can remember how to live with courage, joy, and peace.

That’s the work I love most, helping people find that inner steadiness again.
Helping you turn down the noise of fear so you can hear the quiet strength that’s always been yours.

Because no matter how loud the world gets…
There’s a calmer, wiser part of you that already knows the way through.
And when you find that part again, everything begins to make sense.

30/10/2025

So many mothers and fathers tell me this:
“I used to love flying. But since having children, I can’t do it anymore.”

It’s one of the most tender transformations I see, the way love reshapes the nervous system.
Before children, you were only responsible for your own heartbeat.
Now, every fibre of your being beats for someone else.

Your mind, trying to protect what it loves most, becomes hypervigilant. The imagination, once playful, turns defensive. Every sound, every bump, every thought of being far from solid ground awakens a primitive, ancient instinct: keep them safe.
But it confuses “safe” with “still.”
And so, what was once freedom now feels like threat.

You’re not crazy. You’re not broken. You’re wired for love.
Your fear is proof of how deeply you care.

And here’s the truth I want you to hold onto:
That same love that made flying hard can also set you free.
Because when you soothe your fear, you’re not just calming yourself, you’re showing your children what courage looks like.

You’re teaching them that fear doesn’t mean stop.
It means: I care deeply, and I’m going anyway.

29/10/2025

Life throws obstacles our way, but how we respond can transform us. Discover practical strategies to navigate life's challenges and emerge stronger than ever. Read more here: https://wix.to/YalBGrA

Life is full of challenges that test our strength, patience, and resilience. Navigating these obstacles is not always easy, but it is essential for personal growth and development. When faced with difficulties, the way we respond can either hold us back or propel us forward. This article explores pr...

28/10/2025

Some people clean their homes before they fly.
Not because they like returning to fresh sheets or polished countertops, but because they are preparing to die.

They scrub the sink, straighten the bedcovers, empty the bins.
And as they close the front door, there’s that quiet, aching thought:
“At least they won’t have to deal with the mess when I’m gone.”

No one talks about that part.
The morbid rituals. The silent goodbyes whispered to a house that’s never felt so final.
The long, haunted drive to the airport where every breath feels borrowed.

This is what fear can do.
It can rob you of the joy of anticipation.
It can turn holidays into farewells.
It can make life feel smaller, meaner, a waiting room for disaster that never comes.

What a waste… of love, of laughter, of all the places you could have gone, of the freedom you deserve to feel.

I’ve seen this up close, and I promise you, it doesn’t have to be this way.
When you finally understand what your fear is really trying to protect you from, when you learn to meet it with compassion instead of battle, something changes.

You don’t just survive the flight.
You begin to live again.

The house no longer needs to be perfect.
Because you know you’re coming home.

27/10/2025

We are born radiant, strange, wild, unrepeatable. Yet before we even take our first full breath, the world is already whispering its instructions: “Be like them.”

And so, little by little, we fold ourselves to fit the mould.
We learn to lower our voice when it trembles with truth, to smile when our spirit aches, to pretend we are smaller than the vast, miraculous beings we were meant to be.

They tell us this is safety. They call it belonging.
But it is not belonging, it is abandonment.
Abandonment of the self in exchange for permission to stand in the crowd.

And oh, what a terrible bargain that is.
Because when one person hides their brilliance to survive, the world loses a star it will never see again.
When one soul denies its calling to stay acceptable, something holy goes missing from the human story.

It is not rebellion to be yourself, it is devotion.
Devotion to the life that dreamed you into being, to the purpose that only you can serve.

Your difference is not a flaw in the pattern; it is the spark that makes the whole creation come alive.

So if you’ve ever felt strange, out of place, or wrong somehow, hold on.

The very thing that made you feel apart is proof of the greatness waiting to emerge through you.

Maybe it’s time to stop trying to fit the mould, and start remembering you were never meant to be ordinary.
You were meant to be original.