Something about fear

They say, ‘Don’t fear’.

Maybe we wish they’d say, ‘Don’t not fear’.

My head is full of it all: Don’t sit there on your seat and pretend you can’t fear or you don’t fear or you won’t fear when you can and you do and you will, and I wonder to myself, what am I doing?!?

It’s all right.

I sing for you. It’s not pretty, really. This voice won’t glide out from within like silky smooth chocolate over your great aunt’s fondue fountain. No. Not my voice, not this voice.

But my soul, it sings. It songs and it sings and it sang, that you might know its hope and its fervent joy.

People think of us; they think that because we talk of darkness, we have no hope.

But it’s the getting up … It’s the arising every morning …
It’s the breathing again, breathing again every day that shows them hope.

I fear. 
As do you. We all. All of us. 

And it’s okay.

Here’s my invitation. It’s silly, really, it really is. Maybe you won’t take it, maybe you will accept it, my gift.

See my arm here, reaching out. How easy it might be for you, too, to reach out to me now. Reach out, I invite you to take my hand, please do. Take it. Take my hand.

This moment, this now, is your’s.

We’re strangers, both of us, really. You and I, spanned across the great oceans of Earth, and yet we’re just the same. Just two beings, human, seated, standing, walking, running, thinking, feeling, being. Being human.

Let’s do it together. Why not?

Cry with me. My tears are warm. Salty. Running down my cheeks, they drip, drip, drip. Heaving, my chest.

Will you take my hand, metaphorical though it be?
Will you choose now, without effort, to reach ... that’s it … to reach out and accept this hand, this invisible, human, familiar and different touch?

Sometimes, all we need is someone to listen, to hear, and finally, when everything has happened and the world has shut its eyes, and the moon in her arc across our great speckled skies climbs and falls …

… in the darkness and the quietness of her presence, sometimes, after all is said and all is heard and all is done … all we need is another to believe.

I do.

I believe.

Across the seas, over the oceans, through the atmospheres of a million voices, I hear you. You want to belong. To feel that safety you have felt; do you remember it? You can remember it again, perhaps.

One stranger’s hand reaching out to you, I know. Today we can rise together, you and I, strangers who may never meet. Together, though we never speak, perhaps when we rise together, your hope will come. From within? From without? Can we discover it together, we two, breathers of air so far beyond?

Perhaps these feelings are here for a reason. And now it’s changed, all changed, and the future … ?

The future is your’s to wonder at.

Sunrise and moonset, whose light peeks over the far horizon, like that curious child we all knew one Christmas morn.

Welcome home, friend, stranger, welcome to my fireplace. We are safe here. Isn’t it nice to feel safe? Warm. Comfortable. Welcome. Home.

[Thanks heaps for reading this piece. If you’d like other strangers to benefit from it as well, pleaser consider clicking that sneaky Recommend button down below. It would make it a lot easier for others to find the piece. Thanks again!]