Fear, revisited… Or, that’s okay…

 

I wrote this summer about fear, and truth be told, I’ve been living in the midst of it ever since.  In fact, a quick search for “fear” on my site brings up a good dozen or more posts in the last six months.  I am beginning to think that it’s here to stay.

And that’s okay.

I was talking to my best friend in Chicago yesterday, filling her in on all the ways my life is moving forward at a breathtaking rate, and she told me that I was amazing.  I breezed right by that (old habits die hard) and then stopped and circled back, asking her why she said those particular words.  Thank God for old, dear friends.  She laughed that laugh that I love, and thought for a minute before responding, “Well, you are fearless…”.  This from the woman who literally walked me through the days of unearthing the violence in my early days, the taking off of my mask, the days of hiding under the covers and crying river upon river.  Who saw me, more than once, literally paralyzed.

And then it was my turn to laugh.

Because here’s the thing.  I am scared (expletive deleted here).  Beyond words scared.  All the time.

And that’s okay, too.

 

I’ve come to see something really clearly.  Fear, being scared, anxiety – all of that and more – are just ways that our inner lizards, our primal selves, try to keep us safe.  This mighty yet small inner voice is the one that has descended from generations of those who survived a lot – the ones who were nervous, who watched around them constantly, who were ON ALERT!!!, in a very big way.  Tara Brach tells a wonderful story about this – the bottom line is that our prehistoric ancestors who hung out on a rock, hands in mudra and meditating didn’t make it.  They got eaten.  And so we have carried all that fear forward.  So to speak.

 

Here’s the metaphor for the day.  I watched a candle burn for a while yesterday, focusing on the light.  And I blew it out quickly, releasing a rather surprising amount of smoke.  As the smoke rose, I blew into it, and it disappeared.  And reappeared.  I blew it away, and once more, it returned.  It came and it went. Just like fear.

 

As best I can tell,  the only way out of fear is through it, over and over.  Identifying the fear, questioning it – is it fear of failure or fear of moving forward is a favorite -, allowing it to move away.  And not being so surprised when it returns.  Over and over again.

And that’s okay.  It is.

It’s Tuesday, and I am joining Heather and a great group of writers in Just Write.  Take a look!

 

 

Hush…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The snow came,

without warning,

without a care in the world.

Hush…

Drifting softly,

landing gently,

letting all fall where it will.

Hush…

The snow came,

bringing quiet,

silencing everything it touched.

Hush…

~ clg ~

Is there anything in the world more peaceful than snow at dusk?

Waiting…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everything you want is out there

waiting for you to ask.

Everything you want

also wants you.

~ Jules Renard ~

Tonight, I am waiting, on a number of fronts.  Trying to trust, and call what is out there back to me, here.

And trying to keep my mind from looking like this…

We need silence…

See how nature – trees, flowers, grass – grows in silence;

see the stars, the moon and the sun,

how they move in silence.

~ Mother Teresa ~

finding peace…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is in the very depths of our being,

far beyond what we have words for,

below the self we show to the world,

that we find peace.

~ clg ~

 

peace within…

We can never obtain peace in the outer world

until we make peace with ourselves.

~ Dalai Lama ~

Sunday stroll…

Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon and the truth.

~ Buddha ~

Today, I thought we might go for a Sunday stroll through the magnificent and magical grounds of Green Gulch Farm, in Marin County, California. Green Gulch is a working farm, known for their organic produce, and a part of San Francisco Zen Center. It is now, thanks to Tara Mohr and the incredible retreat she led there last month, one of my favorite places on earth.

The farm and zen center are situated in an extraordinary setting, between mountains and the sea.

I wish you could smell the pure essence of green, of the ocean, of life here.

You walk first through the flower garden, with its many alcoves to explore.

Even this late in the season,

there is color everywhere you look.

Continue past the rows and rows of vegetables, shining like jewels in the sun,

,

visit the horses and watch the quail skitter about, hiding between the planted rows,

wonder at the history and beauty of the age old trees,

marvel at the foothills – the way they are always both in shadow and in light,

and eventually, end up at the ocean.

If you’d like to read a truly wonderful book about life, gardening and Green Gulch, pick up a copy of Gardening at the Dragon’s Gate , by Wendy Johnson - it’s an even better escape than this stroll! Many thanks to one of my dear readers for recommending it to me – it’s a retreat, in and of itself.

I can’t bring Green Gulch to life for you – the scent of herbs, the echo of the gongs, the well beaten paths. I hope, though, that this does bring you a moment of peace.

Namaste.