…the thing about fear is to face that face. To look it dead in the eye, staring quietly, then waiting for it to come alive. It will and when it does, it’s helpful to sing.
The vibration and movement inside when this happens is incredible to feel and observe. Some days I wish I had another observer here to watch these ebbs and flows. I get lonely, but there is little to value there anymore. One soul’s mate doesn’t seem to exist. Too, this is my fear alOne and no One cares how I alOne fear, but I do and I’m just One. One soul’s check mate to its own existence.
Labeling each fear with a name, with a face even, doesn’t do them justice. It never seems quite as fair either to them when I apply my fear to their face. Still, I do it anyway sometimes and then get my panties in a bunch about something. It’s not very humble, those labels.
…the thing about fear is to face your own mug in the mirror. To look yourself dead in the eye, quietly waiting for Us to come alive. I will, I do, and it’s helpful to remember to sing. Sing or vibrate, whatever “you” or I need to do to capture those internal rats that you fear and drive them back into the ground.
~SMB (aka, a real life Pied Piper)
p.S. Long whistle winded stories aside about fear of rats, today I will venture into a den of lions and ask politely for more meat. There is emotion there and every word feels like it matters. Will you remember every perfect word from the time that we’ve shared in those moments?