Part 9 – Something I am afraid of…
Fear can often take a person to a very dark space. Knowing this keeps things real for me, but sometimes it can be a little too real. So …
My first answer that came to mind was death, but then I started to think about that and I really think that the one thing that I am afraid of more is being alone. Not the kind of alone that one cherishes after a house full of people have left following a party, but the kind of alone where there is nothing or no-one. Isolation. That kind of alone.
Of course another question could be asked why being alone would be a bad thing or something to fear. I mean, people do it for years and cope quite admirably (think monks in the Himalayan mountains). So if not being alone, then what.
Perhaps it is being along with my thoughts. But then again, I actually like to think. Some of my friends have suggested that I actually overthink way too much. So if I’m not afraid of my thoughts, what could I be fearful of? Perhaps, it is the lack of thinking that I fear, which kind of brings me back to death. In a sense this is what death brings. After all death is pretty final, and from what I understand about it, there is not a lot of thinking going on after it happens.
But if I’m not afraid of death (not sure if I have established that completely), then the other impact of being alone may be what I am fearful of. The lack of interaction with others, the relationships that I have (or would not have), the companionship with my partner, my friends, my dogs. Could not having those be what I fear? After all isn’t that interaction responsible (in part) for the people that we become, that is the definition of who we are? We are told that people are social in nature and they need human interaction to exist, or develop. It has been suggested that not having that leads to troubled minds, and when added with over thinking, that can never be good.
So perhaps, I am fearful of the person I would become if I were alone.
Thinking, or my thoughts are what get me into trouble. Again, not the kind of trouble that involves calling a truck to carry me away (I’m pretty good at self analyzing and the reality that I live in), but there is a long journey that a thought can have before reaching the end of the pathway it has taken.
So what I am afraid of?
I think beige is a good answer.