“So, Sara,” I was asked this week, “don’t you get scared, sharing the things you write?” From a personal perspective, that looks like a really important question. Before we go beyond the personal, let’s look at the personal perspective:
I’m scared. Physically shaking and nauseous. And that is telling me something, isn’t it? Is it telling me I’m not ready for the challenge in front of me? Or is it telling me I think I’m not ready for what I think is a challenge? Either way, I guess I should sort out myself or my thinking before doing anything else? Or, do I push on, ignoring the thinking and trusting wisdom? How do I know the thought not to do the thing ISN’T wisdom? If I understood more clearly, surely I wouldn’t be scared? Anyway who’s creating the feeling of scared, if not me? Aren’t I making it all up? The only pressure is what I’m putting on myself? Do I snap and whine? Do I do the thing, or don’t I?
Okay. That’s exhausting.
Here’s the thing. ‘Scared’ is telling me nothing. Well, nothing about the situation, nothing about me, nothing about my thinking, nothing about what to do. ‘Scared’ is simply pointing to the fact that my identity is wrapped up in something I’m not – a separate person.
‘Scared’ says there is something to protect, something to defend. Somebody to look after, somebody who could get hurt.
From that personal perspective, ‘scared’ is sensible. ‘Scared’ is looking out for me. ‘Scared’ is stopping me getting hurt.
Is ‘scared’ is right? Am I a separate person? Easy enough to prove, because we can simply produce the person, can’t we? Well, actually, I’m not so sure. Where is this scared person, beyond the feeling of fear?
Where do I find her? In this body? I’ve looked, there’s no evidence. In fact, it seems the opposite, this body is in me. Within my own being.
I investigate this being. And I find simply awareness. Knowing itself. Knowing itself as unflappable, imperturbable, love. And, through the prism of a mind, knowing fear, knowing ‘scared’. But now I know fear is what love looks like, from an imagined outside perspective. And, I guess, to see yourself as outside love is one of the scariest things. Especially when the mind echoes with the knowing that we are love itself.
What if ‘scared’, the idea of separation, is no more than a waking dream? What then? I am scared? You betcha, when my identity is handed over to a body and mind, when it’s personal. And, hell no, when my identity goes beyond the personal, returns to awareness, to love.