Fear is real. The emotion of fear is real, anyway. Fear is defined as:
an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.
“drivers are threatening to quit their jobs in fear after a cabby’s murder”
be afraid of (someone or something) as likely to be dangerous, painful, or threatening.
“he said he didn’t care about life so why should he fear death?” synonyms:be afraid of, be fearful of, be scared of, be apprehensive of, dread, live in fear of, be terrified of
The above definition defined fear as an emotion and that would make it real. What we feel is real isn’t it? Yes, it is. So, I reckon what I’m truly asking is, is this fear justified? Should I really be afraid while laying in my bed, listening to solfeggio frequencies, and farting a bit r/t a lamb gyro I ate for dinner yesterday. I have amenities at my disposal that many, many people in this world would drop to their knees and thank God for daily. Should I be afraid? The answer to that is a simple…no. I’m not going to get all esoteric, absractfullish ( That a word?), and Zen-like here. N0 need. Let’s just hit the basics. I’m simply going to list 7 real “ events “ that trigger my fear.
- Thoughts of being alone with nothing to hang onto, being carried away by a rushing river. This is actually a recurring dream of mine. When I feel out of control, it pops into the movie theater of my dream world. Are my thoughts real? Are to me? So, this is real. The root fear here is being taken against my will and having no control over it. We’ll deal with seeing thoughts for what they truly are in other posts. For now, these thoughts are real. This could easily be thought of as powerlessness.
- Dying. Although I’ve seen it in the real ( not just Hollywood shit ) and am growing more comfortable with death, it still scares me a bit. The root fear here is lack of control and not knowing what’s on the other side of death. When I walk from my Jeep to the door of McDonalds ( only occasionally) I know exactly what awaits me on the other side of the door. The door to the other side of death is a bit of a mystery. The root fear here is lack of control. This could easily be thought of as powerlessness.
- Snakes. Fuck a snake, bro. Keep those fuckers away from me, slithering ass tongues and venom. The root fear here is pain that I’m unable to stop or control. I’m not quick enough to stop a snake strike. I am quick enough to live in an apartment those fuckers can’t get into. Can they get in here? This could easily be thought of as powerlessness.
- Patient deaths. Man, I’m not sure if you’ve ever had the weight of other people’s lives in your hands before, but it wore and wears on me a bit at times. The difficult thing is somehow feeling responsible for the death. The more I’m around end of life scenarios, the more I see them as natural transitions. I’m also developing a sense of something greater, a God. This helps a great deal. The root fear here is threefold: 1) lack of control 2) Making a mistake. 3) Not being perfect at the time perfection is needed most. This could easily be thought of as powerlessness.
- Dying alone. Actually, the thoughts and feelings associated with dying alone. I’m not dead yet. Am I? Um…anything is possible. I could be in a holding pattern. A bardo awaiting my turn to get on the afterlife ride. Is it a ride? Dude, I hope so. That would be sweet. The root fear here is lack of control, loss of control, falling apart in front of others. Strange, I don’t want to die alone but don’t want to lose control in front of others. This could easily be thought of as powerlessness.
- Close relationships. I’m afraid of relationships. Look at #5 and you can see how it ties into #6. I’m afraid of losing control, looking foolish, not being able to captain the ship, and of being ridiculed and made fun of for not “ being a man.” The root fear here is being viewed as a fraud, not being good enough, not being perfect, and trusting someone who may hurt me. This could easily be thought of as powerlessness.
- Hair off the head. Long strands of hair off the head freak me out, brah. I’m afraid they’re going to get lodged in my throat, and I won’t be able to get them the frick out. We’ve all had inadvertent hair in our food. Man, what if you don’t see this long ass hair, eat it, and it gets stuck in your trachea. How you gonna get that shit out, brah? The root fear here is not being able to do anything about the hair, no control, and living with a hair in the throat…forever. How’s that gonna work?