Nothing to fear but...

FDR doing a radio address

Franklin Delano Roosevelt, our 32nd president, famously said, "...we have nothing to fear but fear itself." That is quoted often, for many different purposes, by many different people.

The thing is, doesn't fear mean something different to each of us? We aren't all afraid of exactly the same things. So why is fear the thing we have to fear?

I'll admit, I never really gave it a lot of thought until I listened to a talk given  by my Buddhist teacher, Teah. She talked about various kinds of fear, then pointed out that fear is always in the future, and always in the mind.

If you're like me, you're saying to yourself, no that's not true. You feel that rush of adrenalin when you're afraid, right? And that is accurate. However, when something happens, you are in that moment. You aren't thinking, I'm afraid this dog will bite me. When the dog bites, you react. It isn't fear, it's response.

The fear comes during your anticipation of what might happen. Your mind runs through the possibilities, evaluates options, plans actions. The fear is about what might happen in the future. The response is how you react to what does happen in the moment.

Why do I bring this up now? Yes, it's the beginning of a new year, so it's always a great time for taking stock of things like our fears. But it's a bit more personal than that.

I decided to re-read the manuscript of my work-in-progress before I went back to revisions. When I did, I felt very unsettled - it took me a while to realize that what I felt was fear.

It wasn't what I'd written that inspired the fear, it was what I imagined might happen when people read it that frightened me. I knew some would like it, some wouldn't, and that didn't bother me. It was the thought that I would be revealing something deeply personal; a kind of statement of how I view the world through my characters and my story.

It was a moment in which I realized that writing a book is a tremendous commitment of one's self. How I proceeded would determine if it was a commitment to the deepest expression of my personal truths, or a commitment to protect myself.

Intrepid snail on the path at Asilomar.

I suppose that each reader will have to determine for themselves what choice I made. I know which one I think I made, and I can only hope that it will translate to the page.

Thank you for your choices, your commitments, your expressions.

Take care,

Doc