Many years ago, I read "Big Magic" by Elizabeth Gilbert. I recently picked it back up as I remember the mantra I took away from it, "Curiosity over Fear". At the time, I wrote the words on everything to remind myself, "curiosity over fear", "curiosity over fear", "curiosity over fear".
Then, like all things, the novelty of that thought faded, my subconscious programming took center stage again and my fear patterns reemerged.
They say curiosity killed the cat, so if you are a skittish type, curiosity over fear sounds like an A+ way to find yourself straight in the face of danger. That is why we hold onto our fears, isn't it? Because we believe it will keep us safe?
If you remember my illustration from last week about the Linus blanket, fear is also a soft blue blanket that I carry around to wrap up in when things don't feel safe.
Elizabeth describes fear as the passenger on her road trips. She says, "Here is how I have learned to deal with my fear. I made a decision a long time ago that if I wanted a creativity in my life- and I do- then I will have to make space for fear, too." She talks to this fear as it comes along and while making space for fear to be a passenger in her car-
IT NEVER GETS TO DRIVE.
I have noticed for myself, that fear and love are fast friends. Each moment that I became a parent, with each new child, the two sided coin of fear and love were also born. Every relationship I have ever entered into, "oh hello, familiar friend of fear-love".
Risk brings fear and amazing, great experiences like curiosity and love bring risk along for the ride. The more we fight this fear, the more resistance we put up against it- the louder and louder it gets. Yes, fear is the backseat driver who gets louder when it thinks you aren't listening.
What happens when we ignore or shush our children? They get louder. And so it is with fear.
We invite it along to be a silent passenger.
I have realized that if my kids knock on our door multiple times interrupting our meditation, the best thing that I can do to remain undisturbed is let.them.in.
Seems counter intuitive. But I open the door, put a finger to my lips, motion for them to curl up at my feet and let them hug my legs quietly while I meditate.
If I call out, "we are meditating. Please don't knock right now", three minutes pass and then comes the knocking again and "are you done yet?"
Fear is the same way. If we push it away and say, "not right now fear", it gets louder. It assumes you didn't hear it when it was shouting the risks at you. So instead, I acknowledge its arrival. "Hello Fear." or "Hello Meltdown."
"What do you want me to know?"
"Oh you want me to know that we love our kids and are afraid to lose them? Yes, yes we do and we are. I hear you. We do love them. Now, 'shhhhhh' you can sit here at my feet but I'm busy feeling love right now so you will need to be quiet."
And that is the daily dance.
Warmly,
Jennifer Ferrante, CHt.
Ferrante Family Wellness
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