Fear

Fear is a worm deep down in your stomach, the one that wiggles about whenever you're called to do something you don't think you can do. Fear is the wave of nausea that rises up inside at the thought of having to go beyond your established zones of comfort, and you can barely contain it. Fear is the slight trembling of the hand, the shortening of the breath, the nervous flickering of the eyes, desperately searching for a way out.

I am afraid of many things. Some rational, most irrational. To some extent, I am afraid of change. But I'm afraid of the status quo. I am afraid of changing myself, yet I fear the consequences of not doing so. I am afraid of failure, ridicule, embarrassment, poverty, disease. I am afraid of success, of what I may have to do to obtain it and what I may have to do to maintain it. I am afraid of certain types of men and women. I am afraid of authority figures. I am afraid of stranger with whom I may be called to engage in "small talk."

I have felt that worm deep in my guts; I have fought back the nausea. My hands are trembling even as I write this, my breath has quickened, and I need an escape. My escapes so far have nearly killed me. My escapes must be unindulged, and that is why I want to vomit. That is why I fantasize about being a thousand miles away.

And fear is more than the physical, though that is a favorite avenue of attack. Fear can be more subtle, more cunning, more sophisticated than that, when it needs to be. Fear is procrastination. Fear is criticism and condemnation. Fear is worst-case scenarios. Fear is rationalization. Fear is unsubstantiated justification. And I am guilty of falling headlong into those temptations.

Every now and then, probably a handful of times in a man's life, he senses great forces swirling around him, entering into a type of harmonic convergence where the time for action is Now. I recall Lucien Bonaparte's message to his brother moments before the great French warrior chose to launch his coup d'etat: Now is the time to act!

I do not seek power, wealth, or fame, yet a momentous decision lies in front of me. The great tumblers of the universe have twisted into place, into a key alignment, an alignment that will not exist for much longer, and I am beckoned to come through. All I need to do is to take the first step. Trust. Act. Move. Step through.

Like a dog, fear senses this great decision before me, and it seeks to confuse and obfuscate, to incapacitate me, to overcome me, to destroy me. Am I to let it? I am scared and I am nauseated and I am trembling and I can go no further - but I must! Oh, I must ...

But something was revealed to me, a lesson was generously given to me, unwilling pupil that I am, seeker of truth of all that is without and not within. Yes, I was shown an important truth today. Fear is a man playing poker, raising the stakes while holding nothing of value in his cards. Fear is a bluffer. Fear bluffs. Fear has no power behind it. Absolutely none.

I am reminded of the line from T. S. Eliot: "I will show you fear in a handful of dust." Now, I don't pretend to know what that line means, or what Eliot meant it to mean, but could one take away the image that fear is ephemeral, enough to be blown away by the gentlest of breezes?

Could not our mission here be simply to overcome fear?

Love, and not to fear?