Fear’s Echoes into the Unknown
The light at the end of the tunnel may not be visible right now, but how can it be if I don’t even dare to enter it?
There’s a specter nestled within my chest — Fear is its name, it whispers—a mere shadow lurking in the corners of my awareness. But the moment I’m faced with the new, the unknown, the unplanned, its invasive nature is blatantly revealed.
I feel its smothering embrace; it reminds me again that control is an illusion, that change is the only constant in life.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow because I don’t like changes. I fear them.
They are silent harbingers of panic, causing every passing thought to spin a web of worst-case scenarios.
Life, it seems, wouldn’t be life without its paradoxes — for changes adorn our existence with thrilling beauty.
And while a part of me still desperately clutches at the illusion of permanence, another part recognizes the absurdity.
One body, two entities. Perpetually at odds.
Does anyone feel the same?
But I understand.
We are eternally adrift. And time — with its every tick — puls us further from the familiar banks of yesterday.
And who knows what lurks beyond the next bend?
Perhaps a waterfall? An obstacle? Or a serene stretch of calm?
It feels tempting to know the future. To be armed with foreknowledge of all events to come. To be prepared, always.
Yet, I wouldn’t dare take up this burden. The word ‘burden’ even seems too mild to convey the sheer weight of this knowledge, knowledge no mortal mind could bear.
But what about fear? Is it possible to get rid of it?
Fear is innate — a primal instinct crucial for our survival as a species.
Kristen Ulmer, a former extreme skier, did a brilliant TEDx talk on this topic.
The “extreme skier” title makes one assume that fearlessness is a prerequisite for such a career. But no.
Fear was ever-present.