Fear saves

There is a conundrum to my development heretofore. While fear held me back from expressing my deep emotions, it was fear itself that was dying to come out. I wanted to share with others my deep feeling of fear, but I was afraid to do so.

You might be thinking, “why would you share fear? Why would you want to scare people?”

I respond to this doubt with a deep understanding of human nature. Whether we admit it or not, we are motivated by an innate sense of fear. Fear is the strongest force of motivation: it can cause you to run at top speed; it can cause you to give up all of your money; it can cause you to beg for your life; it can cause you to put yourself before anyone else. Fear lies at the heart of who we are. Without fear, we perish. Without fear, we would simply walk off of the cliff and fall to our death.

When fear is denied, the ego takes over. Think of a big tough masculine guy who refuses to admit that he’s afraid of anything. The punch line is that he’s deathly afraid of clowns, and when a clown rounds the corner he jumps into his girlfriend’s arms. Even though he wants to seem fearless, his ego disappears when confronted with fear, and he runs to the most stable thing he knows. The situation is funny because we know deep down that fearlessness is impossible. We wait for the guy to finally be proven wrong, and when he folds out of fear, we are satisfied knowing the power of karma.

Fear interacts with karma, creating the boundary between the sins we commit thoughtlessly and the actions we take in confidence. If we act in accordance with what we think is right, then we respect karma and fear. If we act without knowing the consequences, we invite fear and dushkarma (bad karma) into our lives to teach us a lesson.

Fear is not hesitation. Fear is not nervousness. It is much deeper and more palpable, and it hits us like a tidal wave. If we contain our fear, it shakes our core until we are forced to act. Whether or not we resist, fear will move us eventually. The key is to let fear out, to surrender and fall back on stability.

I am learning to let go of my ego, and a big part of that is finding the confidence to share my experience. I ask myself, “What are you afraid of?” and letting the question seep into my core. Self-expression is my greatest fear. I do it without knowing the consequences, and I desperately await a sign from the world to tell me if I am right or wrong. This fear lies unresolved at the root of my being, while the outside world demands that I deny it. Whether or not I am afraid of expressing myself, I am forced to do so in order to relate to the people around me.

She brings me down. She makes me feel heavy. She frowns.

Her cold body doesn’t move an inch while I paint her. She sighs from her porcelain white chest.

“Why do you do this to me, baby?” She doesn’t say a thing in reply, just sighs.

She makes a great model. She sits there, not moving, acting like she’s dead.

I remember when she was my sister in a past life. I would find her sitting on a ledge, watching the sunset, fire and water in her eyes. She lorded over me, rejecting all of my criticisms with bleak stares. I lorded over her, and her words never penetrated my heart.

She lords over me now, blocking all of my heart from life.

What will I call my blog?

This is my self-effort. This is me taking the stand to speak my mind and to grow in the only way I know, that is, through talking! Really, ideas come to me while I run my mouth (or fingers). I can start talking about things that I think I know about and then suddenly I realize I’ve got things completely backward.

So this blog is my path to understanding, my path to adventure. It is the opposite of self-satisfaction. It’s a way for me to go places, to do things not just for myself, but knowing that I can make something more out of them and share it with the world. It’s part confessional, part philosophy, part musings, part classified ad. It’s got so many parts, how can I sum it up under just one name?

I want to call it a path. The words are my lantern and my fear is the night, so as I write I’m dispelling all the darkness that once filled my conception of my self in the world. I can do better. I can push farther.

I want to call it “The Spinner’s Wheel” because I feel like Minerva threading together ideas, experiences and inspiration to make a tapestry. From a bundle of threads, she weaves a picture of beauty, just as I weave my own path through tying together my thoughts. As my fingers tap away on the keys, I use my hands, the same tools that the seamstress or artist uses to create. And what I make, I want to behold it like a piece of art. Critique it, adore it, chip away at it, see it as inspiration—whatever “it” is, it will come from ten fingers working in harmony.