Certain things paralyse us. We feel them approaching and the sense of impending doom increases. “I’ve got to do something. Say something. Get away from it.”
We fear loneliness. We shrink from opportunities to express ourselves because we’re worried what everyone else might think. We turn our backs on situations that take us beyond the bounds of what we deem comfortable. We run from the unknown and the unfamiliar.
But what if we allowed these things to hit us? What if we stood strong in the presence of loneliness? What if we didn’t turn away when a conflict or a difficult scenario confronts us?
What I’ve found, and I’m sure you’d discover the same, is that the things we habitually turn from aren’t that scary. At a distance they look solid. They feel real. And as they get closer, that sense of realness, and of panic, seems overwhelming. But just as the night is darkest before the dawn, the things that make us tremble are at their scariest right before they reveal their weakness.
Allow them to hit you—or even better, stride out to meet them. You’ll find that they’re not made of solid material. They’re made of smoke and shadows. Of vapour. Of illusion. We can pass right through them and they can’t touch us.