Yesterday I was afraid.
I was afraid because my mum was taken into hospital. I was afraid for her, but mostly I was afraid to go and be with her, because I have emetophobia and I am generally afraid of hospitals and sick people.
I was afraid because much later, on our long dark drive home, we almost got stuck in the deep waters of a flooded road behind a stranded car and the endless stream of cars coming towards us wouldn’t let us through, despite my pleading eyes.
How well did I look after myself?
For most of my life I have managed everything - from teensy issues to full-blown crises - by pushing and straining. I would force myself to do the things I was afraid to do, or even better deny that I was afraid at all. There was often an intense pressure between the ‘keep going’ and the ‘want to run away or give up’ parts. I didn’t admit to my limits, because I didn’t want to be the kind of person that wasn’t able to be generous, or that was tired out by being around people, or that felt fear around sickness.
I don’t blame these parts of me for shoving me. It is tiring, though. It didn’t get me anywhere any faster. It often backfires as there is a backlash of collapse after the pushing. It isn’t kind.
Yesterday, I managed to be kind to myself. I asked Kaspa to come with me to the hospital, even though they had something really important planned and I could have gone on my own. Before we left, I reminded the young and afraid parts of me that they ‘didn’t have to come’ - that they could stay at home on the sofa with the dogs and watch films and eat popcorn instead. While in the hospital I noticed a vigilant part that was noticing all the sick people and worrying about them, and I managed to remind it that there were lots of doctors and nurses around, and that noticing people who needed things was their job. I took regular breaks from being inside the hospital and I made sure that I ate most of a sandwich. I factored in being tired today. I did okay.
Perfect love casts out all fear. This is true, and, we don’t often manage to love ourselves or others perfectly - being human and all. We don’t often manage to receive it from others or from the Universe either. (Well, let me speak for myself. I find it almost impossible.)
Yesterday I was better than I have been in the past at looking after and loving my afraid parts. Maybe the next time I have to do something that scares me, I’ll be even better. Maybe I’ll be worse. That’s okay. Also, sometimes we become more susceptible to fear and it’s hard to keep up. Also, life keeps thinking up new ways to scare us.
What we can do is notice - gently - when fear arrives.
We can try and ask for help. We can validate our fear - of course I’m afraid of sick people, with my personal history. If we don’t understand why we’re afraid, we can trust that there are good reasons. We can remember to take our next breath, and the one after that. We can lean into the truth of impermanence and find comfort there. We can remember love.
Mum has made a complete recovery, and we didn’t get stuck in the flood. If she hadn’t, and if we had, I would still find ways of being okay. Even when I’m not okay, that’s okay. Perfect love is always there - just in the corner of my eye - waiting to take my hand when I’m ready.
Go gently,
Satya <3
Tell me: How well do you manage to look after yourself when you are afraid? Are you able to forgive yourself for being afraid? What helps you to manage fear? Do you know that you’re not alone in being afraid?
What a lovely piece. I too am not kind to my fears and often push through
I don’t really know what fear is. I do know what anxiety and dread are. Are these all different words for the same thing?