Fear
They say there is nothing to fear but fear itself, but of course this is not true. There are many things in life to be fearful of. I have been fearful of most of them for as long as I can remember and increasingly I am finding more things to add to the list. I cannot remember the last time I went a whole night without at least one little shiver going down my spine; sometimes in my dreams, and sometimes when I was still lying awake waiting for the brief respite that sleep brings.
Fear begins by attaching itself to a specific thing, but so often it has a way of uncoupling itself from the thing and becoming a separate entity, orbiting like a satellite around the blurred edges your consciousness. It does not help that being seen as a Coward is to risk being an outcast by a society that glorifies the Fearless and the Brave.
There is an evolutionary element to Fear, and it can sometimes save your life. But when does it stop being useful and start being debilitating?
I couldn’t tell you, I’m afraid.
I smiled at the hint of a joke, but her face was as impassive as ever.
Family
I often think of family as a carpet, she said.
What do you mean?, I asked.
When a carpet is new, it feels soft and comfortable. You grow up with the warmth and security of it; it is a protection against the inevitable bumps and scratches that life throws at you along the way. You imagine it will always remain this way.
In time, though, parts of the carpet feel like they’re being trampled on. It starts to fray at the seams; little holes start appearing in the fabric. It is no longer as soft as it used to be, instead it becomes slippery and a false step here or there could mean you lose your footing. You try and patch things together but you can still see where the tear was.
Eventually, things fall apart completely under the weight of obligation, but still the carpet needs to stick together. And so things get brushed under it, rugs get thrown over it. Appearances are maintained, because the carpet cannot be changed. But, underneath, things continue to fray until finally nothing remains except a faint pattern or a vague memory.
Is this why they say you always hurt the ones who love you most?
Perhaps.
But you are also obliged to love the ones who hurt you the most.
Friendship
Why is friendship so precious, I asked?
Because there is no obligation.
You mean like with families?
Perhaps.
There is also no expectation. When nothing is expected, everything is unexpected and that is the beauty of friendship. It is like watering a plant thinking it will produce only leaves but suddenly one morning you go outside and it is covered in beautiful flowers.
Or like talking to a bird never expecting it to say anything back and then suddenly it squawks back it’s name at you? I asked.
Family is like a legally binding contract, but friendship is a gentleman’s agreement. You can come to a mutual agreement when you want to call time on a friendship but you can’t wake up one morning and decide you’re not going to be a father anymore. Friendships endure because it is assumed they have an expiry date, while family ties often unravel precisely because they’re expected to last forever. Forever is sometimes a long time.
Sadness
Sadness at the loss of a toy is a temporary, fleeting sadness. Children are able to overcome sadness in ways that adults are never quite able to. The Sadness of a broken relationship or a lingering regret; the sort of sadness that draws from a bottomless pool of sorrow- this is Adult Sadness.
It seeps in, invisible at first, like moisture in a poorly ventilated room, but it is only a matter of time before the once-pristine walls of your early childhood are covered in melancholic mildew. And though it enters through many different places, it always seem to find its way to your eyes.
Your eyes are where Sadness goes to look out at the world from.
They say there is nothing to fear but fear itself, but of course this is not true. There are many things in life to be fearful of. I have been fearful of most of them for as long as I can remember and increasingly I am finding more things to add to the list. I cannot remember the last time I went a whole night without at least one little shiver going down my spine; sometimes in my dreams, and sometimes when I was still lying awake waiting for the brief respite that sleep brings.
Fear begins by attaching itself to a specific thing, but so often it has a way of uncoupling itself from the thing and becoming a separate entity, orbiting like a satellite around the blurred edges your consciousness. It does not help that being seen as a Coward is to risk being an outcast by a society that glorifies the Fearless and the Brave.
There is an evolutionary element to Fear, and it can sometimes save your life. But when does it stop being useful and start being debilitating?
I couldn’t tell you, I’m afraid.
I smiled at the hint of a joke, but her face was as impassive as ever.
Family
I often think of family as a carpet, she said.
What do you mean?, I asked.
When a carpet is new, it feels soft and comfortable. You grow up with the warmth and security of it; it is a protection against the inevitable bumps and scratches that life throws at you along the way. You imagine it will always remain this way.
In time, though, parts of the carpet feel like they’re being trampled on. It starts to fray at the seams; little holes start appearing in the fabric. It is no longer as soft as it used to be, instead it becomes slippery and a false step here or there could mean you lose your footing. You try and patch things together but you can still see where the tear was.
Eventually, things fall apart completely under the weight of obligation, but still the carpet needs to stick together. And so things get brushed under it, rugs get thrown over it. Appearances are maintained, because the carpet cannot be changed. But, underneath, things continue to fray until finally nothing remains except a faint pattern or a vague memory.
Is this why they say you always hurt the ones who love you most?
Perhaps.
But you are also obliged to love the ones who hurt you the most.
Friendship
Why is friendship so precious, I asked?
Because there is no obligation.
You mean like with families?
Perhaps.
There is also no expectation. When nothing is expected, everything is unexpected and that is the beauty of friendship. It is like watering a plant thinking it will produce only leaves but suddenly one morning you go outside and it is covered in beautiful flowers.
Or like talking to a bird never expecting it to say anything back and then suddenly it squawks back it’s name at you? I asked.
Family is like a legally binding contract, but friendship is a gentleman’s agreement. You can come to a mutual agreement when you want to call time on a friendship but you can’t wake up one morning and decide you’re not going to be a father anymore. Friendships endure because it is assumed they have an expiry date, while family ties often unravel precisely because they’re expected to last forever. Forever is sometimes a long time.
Sadness
Sadness at the loss of a toy is a temporary, fleeting sadness. Children are able to overcome sadness in ways that adults are never quite able to. The Sadness of a broken relationship or a lingering regret; the sort of sadness that draws from a bottomless pool of sorrow- this is Adult Sadness.
It seeps in, invisible at first, like moisture in a poorly ventilated room, but it is only a matter of time before the once-pristine walls of your early childhood are covered in melancholic mildew. And though it enters through many different places, it always seem to find its way to your eyes.
Your eyes are where Sadness goes to look out at the world from.
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