Touched by the Hand of Fear

On the surface, some of my life experiences could imply that I am guided by a generous spirit, noble purpose or inspirational vision.  To some extent, sure.  However, I'm chased by fear, too. 

By age 9, I had read Hiroshima, seen extra-terrestrials in my room, watched Salem's Lot (at a girlfriend's 4th grade sleepover party) and seen plenty of news reports about violence.  During the day, I was happy at school and playing with friends but at night I was terrified.  

One night, after seeing something on television that made me nervous, I asked my dad what he would do if something like that happened to me.  He said not to worry, that kind of thing doesn't really happen to people.  Yeah, but what if it does? I asked.  It won't happen, he insisted. 

He was intending to reassure me. Maybe he hoped that I had so much confidence in his perspective, I would give up mine. 

It doesn't really work like that.  Does it?

Instead, I came to the conclusion that if something bad happened, I'd be on my own.  

So, I developed the following evening protocol:

• check that all doors are locked and fire alarms functioning 
• make sure the basement door is locked and the laundry shoot secure so nobody can smash through basement windows and break into the house that way 
• put a clean steak knife under my pillow
• wear a hooded nightgown to bed (in case vampires were real) 
• go through a detailed prayer list every night.  

I still remember those prayers because I was obsessive about reciting them. "God, please don't let someone come and murder all my family but leave me alive to find them.  Please don't let a fire come and burn down the house with all of us in it.  Please protect us from nuclear attacks. Please don't let Grinny and Pop-Pop get hurt, don't let mom and dad get hurt...."  I believed that as long as I remembered to mention someone's name, or name a particular calamity, we would be protected.  I was responsible for everyone's safety and I took this job seriously.    

I carry that experience with me.  

Rather than being touched by the hand of god, I was touched by the hand of fear.  At a certain level, everything I have ever done is sourced as much by fear - that we are not okay, that we are one breath from oblivion - as love. My willingness to be present with fear, to hear my thinking, to choose where to place my attention, to bring my best self forward, transforms that fear to love. Now and back. Now and forward.  This is some powerful shiz.