What would I do if I had no fear and there was a promise of no failure?
Fear is a mysterious teacher and reflective mirror. Fear alerts us to our most valued inner possessions. Fear is a clear indicator of what really matters. Who would fear the fire if they could never burn? Fear plucks the chord of knowing that nothing is permanent or promised. Fear is an echo of the insecurities and fragile illusions we hold close to our hearts.
Would that I had no fear, would I ever seek to grow? To strengthen? To learn? If I had no fear would I ever feel courageous or accomplished or even satisfied? Isn’t fear intrinsic in our value of something great? Of being great? Of overcoming fear laden obstacles and proving ourselves to ourselves despite the terror or threat? Or is fear the inhibitor of creative flow? Doesn’t fear step in and steady the painter’s hand and restrict and limit and stay? Isn’t it fear the block that writer’s dread and orators obey when they stay silent?
If I had no fear I would fly. I would launch off a precipice and lift my arms and flap and soar. I would drink in the chill and the lift and the loft and soar over the canyon. I know I would. But if I had no fear would I even want to? Would the thrill of flight even call to me? Would I still dream to glide with eagles and hawks and sail above the concerns below? Would I feel the urge to remove myself from the crowds and myopic confusion to soar above, to gain a greater perspective, to see what others can’t see? Would I even feel the burning need?
Would I try to reach my brothers and sisters with my words and with my heart if their pain was not palpable and terrifying? Without the taste of panic would I recognize the need, the pain, the hurt? What then would birth the urge to push past insecurity to uplift and empower others if not the fear that without my courage they may never know theirs?
I know that it is because of fear that I must continue to create. I know that it is because of impending failure that I must lift myself up and dust myself off and try again. I know that fear is no match to the courage of my heart but that she is an older cousin to my love. Because the stronger my love, the larger my fear and yet, the more I befriend fear the braver is my heart.