Fear, when befriended, is desire.
Not the outgrowths of fear, but the force of fear itself. When we learn to feel the texture, movement, and contours of fear, we discover a deep, cool, dark refuge.
What we call fear is not truly fear, but the force knocking at a door we refuse to open. Anxiety, panic, the trembling sensation—these are just the beating of that force. Though it feels counter-instinctual, the invitation is to open wider than the force itself.
Our biology teaches us to avoid threats, so we block fear’s entry. We are unaware we’re blocking an aspect of ourselves, that, disconnected from our depths, can only fix, fight, or blame.
This aspect scrambles for solutions, seeks external comfort, or prays for relief. It fights by rationalizing, throwing the force onto others in anger. It blames, creating resentment, saying, “I would be happy if only it weren’t for you.”
In this way, we separate from our Erotic Mind, remaining at the surface, never reaching the intimacy within. But fear, stripped of its masks, is our most fierce and
loyal guardian, refusing to let us stray from ourselves.
When met with loving, active attention, fear reveals itself as a faithful servant, bringing us back to the truth that is freedom.