Fear Speaks

Fear speaks to me.  It's a delicate balance between ignoring the whispers, and listening to the instinctual responses meant to keep me safe from harm.  I've practiced filtering out the irrational from the necessary, but it's still a practice.  I've heard that habits are replaced instead of exterminated, so I've tried replacing fear with love and vulnerability, but man, it's hard.  Fear still creeps in, causing doubt. 

How do you forget a language?  I first realized around three or four years old that I thought in language and I wondered what my thoughts were like before I knew words.  I tried to revert to thinking without words, but couldn't.  Like my native English, fear too, seems to be inescapable.  The happier I am, the more I have to lose, the louder fear becomes.  I'm thankful for a relationship based on honesty and unbelievable communication, because sometimes talking about fears makes them disappear, or at least become manageable. 

I've recently been reading  my favorite book, Paulo Coehlo's The Alchemist, for the millionth time, and an excerpt "My heart is afraid to suffer" has stood out to me for the first time:

“Why do we have to listen to our hearts?” the boy asked, when they had made camp that day.

“Because, wherever your heart is, that is where you’ll find your treasure.”

“But my heart is agitated,” the boy said. “It has its dreams, it gets emotional, and it’s become passionate over a woman of the desert. It asks things of me, and it keeps me from sleeping many nights, when I’m thinking about her.”

“Well, that’s good. Your heart is alive. Keep listening to what it has to say.”

“My heart is a traitor,” the boy said to the alchemist, when they had paused to rest the horses. “It doesn’t want me to go on.”

“That makes sense. Naturally it’s afraid that, in pursuing your dream, you might lose everything you’ve won.”

“Well, then, why should I listen to my heart?”

“Because you will never again be able to keep it quiet. ”

“You mean I should listen, even if it’s treasonous?”

“Treason is a blow that comes unexpectedly. If you know your heart well, it will never be able to do that to you. Because you’ll know its dreams and wishes, and will know how to deal with them.

“My heart is afraid that it will have to suffer,” the boy told the alchemist one night as they looked up at the moonless sky.

“Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second’s encounter with God and with eternity.”

I see the value in fear and realize that my job is to listen, not ignore.  The idea that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself resonates for me, having lived through a crap ton of crap and always survived, coming out of it stronger, wiser, and more confident.  I think about talking to my heart like I would talk to Koa, reassuringly.  I wouldn't ignore his fears, I would help him process them, protect him as he takes chances, and help him to become confident in himself.

My greatest dream is to nurture Koa so that it's easy for him to listen to his heart, be self-assured in following his dreams and overcome fear with bravery. So far I think I've done a pretty stellar job with him (pat, pat).  Now I just need to remember to continue my work of treating my own heart with the same compassion. 

 

What ways do you find helpful in overcoming fears?