on fear

I recently met someone who seems to study fear the way I study vulnerability. They connect, of course - the roads merge. As long as the study of fear does not involve armor, as long as it's an acceptance of it, a softening in the face of it, then we are essentially discussing two segments of the same worm.

Because vulnerability is hindered by fear and fear is hardened in the face of vulnerability.

What is the fear behind vulnerability? The fear that someone hurt you once and can hurt you again, the fear that someone would reject you if they only knew, the fear that someone would consume you if you let down your guard. Because of the fear, we press the vulnerability like a flower, wrap it up, put it in the back of the dresser drawer, and forget about it if we're really practiced or ignore it if that's the best we can do. We live our lives with fear waiting for us, imaging in our subconscious eye a living, breathing boogey man who grows bigger and bigger and meaner and meaner with time.

But if we would just close the bedroom door, inch the dresser drawer toward us, open our eyes and take a deep breath, pull the bundle out and unfold the wrapping, we'll see it's dried up, broken apart, ashen. What we had feared all that time has lost its pungency, lost its sting, is no longer a tyrant but instead a withered old wrinkled man who chews with his gums.

It's not about overpowering fear. It's about softening. Because in your most vulnerable moments you visit with fear and find you already have the strength you need.