“He who fears suffering already suffers from his fear.” — Michel de Montaigne
Three years ago, I started a blog in an attempt to use writing to get over my fear of putting my thoughts out into the world. It didn’t last long. I wrote only a few posts before I quit. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t prepared to do the work. I didn’t believe that I had anything to say. I didn’t trust my own ideas and I didn’t know myself well enough yet.
WHAT KIND OF FEAR AM I TALKING ABOUT?
Fear is the precipice between my imagination and my reality. It is my imagination running wild. I can over-intellectualize to the point of overdramatizing. I consider many possible scenarios and many catastrophes. Almost none of them find their way into reality. But the emotions experienced through my imagination differ little from those in reality.
I’m left fearing the demons of my imagination, those that do not exist, more than any demon of reality. Imaginary demons of rejection, of failure, of judgment and embarrassment and inadequacy.
WHAT AM I AFRAID OF?
I’m afraid to show myself to the world. I’m afraid to express my thoughts and my ideas. I’m afraid to do or say the wrong thing. I’m afraid to be seen as a fool. Most of all, I’m afraid to make a mistake and choose the wrong path. These thoughts of fear express themselves as feelings of fear and I can’t help seeking shelter from that which makes me feel afraid.
WHY FACE MY FEAR?
I want to get to know myself better. Develop my voice. I want to chase my curiosity and explore my peculiarities. That means embracing the things that make me unique. I don’t believe my ideas are remarkable or profound, but I do think my perspective can help someone to better understand their own. I’ve come to understand myself enough to believe that.
All the people I admire weave words to express their perspectives. Writing, speaking, thinking, storytelling. There are the skills I’m here to refine. I want to be a purveyor of wisdom. I want to be a person with interesting stories to share. Someone worth listening to. I want to express my truth and make sense of this world through words and stories.
WHAT AM I GOING TO DO ABOUT MY FEAR?
While I was growing up, I used to say I was going to die by the time I was thirty. It was a romantic ideal of an overzealous youth hoping to have an exciting and interesting life. At the time, I was enamored with athletes and musicians. It seemed that in those realms if you hadn’t made something of yourself by the time you were thirty, you never would. It was naïve thinking, yes, but it was the framework for how I wanted to live my life.
Well, I just turned thirty, and I’ve never had such a zeal for life. I ponder my death often, but only as a practice to calibrate my way of living. Through that process, I have let parts of myself die as I make room for new parts. I reflect fondly on the memories of where I came from and who I’ve been. But those memories are stars at the back of my perception as I stride forward in search of new light.
I am growing. I am evolving. That means shedding aspects of myself that no longer serve me. Killing the version of who I was to make room for who I am going to be.
I will not continue to live my life based on fear. I’ve done that for too long. I’ve been indecisive for too long. I’m probably going to suck at this for a while. But I’ll get better. I will improve under the lights of the arena. I will make peace with my fear. Acknowledge it. Be compassionate with it. Be kind to myself.
I will thank my fear for trying to protect me while striding forward knowing I have nothing to be afraid of. I will step boldly into uncertainty, into discomfort, into the void.
“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.” — Frank Herbert
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