I have often thought about fear. Suffice it to say, I carry it along. And its cousins. Fifty-nine posts categorised with this, the most basic human emotion, says a lot. Then of course, (by divine intervention, if you have to say it) I stumble on this:
“Nobody is courageous all the time. The unknown is a constant challenge, and being afraid is part of the journey.
What to do? Talk to yourself. Talk alone. Talk to yourself even if others think you have gone crazy. As we talk, an inner force gives us the security to overcome the obstacles that need to be surmounted. We learn lessons from the defeats that we are bound to suffer. And we prepare ourselves for the many victories that will be part of our life.
And just between you and me, those who have this habit (and I’m one of them) know that they never talk alone: the guardian angel is there, listening and helping us to reflect.”: Issue nº 178 – When angels talk
(Via Warrior of Light.)
There are a few stories that follow this wonderful introduction by Paulo Coelho. The context, somehow, is different — I have caught on to the fear aspect; he speaks about conversations with and of Angels. The book, however, is a wonderful read.
In a way, I have always been fascinated by people who have an immortal sense of security. I don’t envy them, neither am I afraid of them. They just fascinate me. Because after all, fear, eventually, is a tool more than anything else. And they seem lacking in it. Fear sends gentle and harsh electric pulses and wakes the lazy neurons. It keeps the faculties alive. Manages responses for future action.
Many have often spoken of the negativeness, that is fear. How it brings us down. How dark an emotion it is. And how, hope, a bright shining light, washes the darkness, that is fear. I see hope as a twitching-fingers-while-you-wait emotion. Hope is hopeless, in itself. Do you Believe in Hope?
Then there are the pedlars of live-for-today. I think it is a fine philosophy. In very absolute terms. Almost carefree, devoid of responsibility. But, someday, somewhere you will have to respond. How will you respond? Response is always post-action; always tomorrow.
Fear stimulates the response. Not the foundation to build storeys of excuses, but the knowledge of your response. The truth of it all. Fear stimulates the self-dialogue that Paulo Coelho talks about.
And I love his last paragraph. As long as I don’t rationalise. It is romantic.
In my conversations with the self (and yes, R, you can now safely assume the madness you speak of; however, others agree [insert appropriate smiley for R]), I have always had a dialogue. The dialogue has largely been one-sided, yet it has been good, engaging and useful.
And I think:
Many’s the time I’ve been mistaken
And many times confused
Yes, and I’ve often felt forsaken
And certainly misused
Oh, but I’m all right, I’m all right
I’m just weary to my bones
Still, you don’t expect to be
Bright and bon vivant
So far away from home, so far away from home
(Not mine, obviously; by Paul Simon, in The American Tune)