Like everyone, I worry.
I worry about day to day happenings, situations & often, shortcomings. I worry about how my achievements measure up to those of other people my age & I worry when I realise that I seem to have reached the end of one path & begun another & am still lacking a sense of fulfilment or the semblance of satisfaction. I worry about the fact that I find my calligraphy pens far more reliable than any perpetually absent significant other. That said, I still worry about being lonely.
Recently, my worries merge from mere cognitive manifestations to take on more obvious forms. Although I am not directly/physically affected by the devastating tragedy in Japan, I have seen places where I once set foot that have been wiped clean & I am yet to hear from various friends in the affected areas. I worry for them as I worry for the whole country, especially with the continuing nuclear threat.
I have gleaned an understanding from the new reports I have devoured, the hours of live coverage & footage & it makes me worry no less. Watching 60 Minutes last night weaved my fears into a broad tapestry of recent earthquakes, tsunamis, cyclones, bushfires, blizzards, floods, hurricanes, droughts and volcanic eruptions where we are left with no doubt that our natural world is not a happy place. I know it is beyond any of us to control the whims of nature, but when we see the effect this has on our fellow human beings it is indeed heartbreaking. I worry about billions & billions of people who I have never & will never meet. I worry for us all.
Against this worry, I settled in to do some reading last night as I had been on the same chapter in The Horse & His Boy by C.S Lewis for at least 2 months. I read the Chronicles of Narnia when I was young & thought during the holidays that it was high time I refreshed myself, although time has since gotten away from me.
The part that I read last night in the chapter "The Unwelcome Fellow Traveller" was so perfectly suited to how I was feeling with all of my worries that I had to re-read it a few more times. Shasta was travelling on a normal horse but had become seperated from the Narnians due to a fog & soon found he could sense a presence walking beside him to which he eventually began conversing with.
Shasta mentioned his many hardships on his journeys, in particular involving the lions he had encountered & how there must be no-one else as unfortunate as he when the voice (hello Aslan!) assured him that he is not unfortunate & admits that he was the single lion who Shasta had seen.
"I was the the lion." And as Shasta gaped with open mouth & said nothing, the Voice continued. "I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time."
Without launching into all of the Christian allegory these tales contain, the gift of the strength of their own fear resonated profoundly with me. Fear is inevitable but it is interchangeable. It can be channelled into productivity or measuring a harsh resolve. Fight or flight. It can be the catalyst for change, whether it is good or bad but at least something may get done rather than waiting in apathy.
I myself was meant to be living in Japan this year, but seeing as I will be an uncle for the first time next month I decided to stay this one extra year to enjoy the experience. I'm not going to sit here & say "I could have died if I was there" because my plans had always been to settle in exquisite Kyoto which I am yet to hear being mentioned in areas that have been affected by the earthquake & tsunami as it is far inland. I have had many people ask whether I will still go next year & although it depends on another possibility falling through, my answer has been "Yes".
I am afraid of the extreme challenges that I would face as a foreigner living in a non-english speaking country.
I am afraid of the isolation I would feel being alone there.
I am afraid of being so far away from my family whom I love fiercely.
BUT.
I am far more afraid of sitting in my room at home, waiting for nothing to happen.
I am far more afraid of continuing to merely exist rather than live.
I am far more afraid that I would fail to recognise the lion of the world that has given me the fear to get through that 'last mile' or tough decision as it may be.
I will set out into this world with all its worries, foreboding shadows, unknowable outcomes and uncertainty & will try to make the most of the path I choose. I can make no guarantee that I will always travel the right path or make the correct decision when faced with adversity, but knowing how to live with uncertainty is the only certainty there is. I will shake my mane & rear my head in defiance & by my own actions, may possibly be the lion who gives others the startled jump from inaction.
My greatest gift I can hope to ever give you is the strength of your own fear, and I would gladly give it to you with all my love.
xo
A beautiful post.
ReplyDeleteYour strongest fear reminds me of Dr Seuss' vision of purgatory from "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" - the Waiting Place:
"Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance."
Does fear keep us from the Waiting Place? I don't know. There are some that call the Fight/Flight response a Fight + Flight + Freeze response, and as I reflect on my own life I can see plenty of times when I've frozen like a rabbit in long grasses, waiting for a sense of threat to disappear.
I also know that there are other things in life that can give us the impetus for change: a sense of hope, a certain spark, a belief in the future. It's a funny thing to think about, but during my addiction plenty of people tried to scare me into freedom... but ultimately I was only scared into staying addicted. I only became free when I found a deep positivity inside me... But this is just my story. There are plenty of people who have quit all sorts of drugs when they have "heard angel feathers."
But I love this post. As a man with a history of anxiety, I've often found myself wondering why am I so afraid? What would life be like if I were less afraid? Is fear a gift or a torment? This view of Lewis' that you elucidate is ultimately very hopeful; it says the fear we feel can be an instrument of our salvation.
"Knowing how to live with uncertainty is the only certainty there is" is just great. And on a nervous night for me (I have a job interview tomorrow) it's especially pertinent.
Bravo! xx mm