The innocence of fear
I found myself feeling defensive yesterday and it was so uncomfortable: thoughts kept me awake as I conjured my counter-attack. And now, in this peaceful moment I can’t find anything to attack, nothing to defend. All I see is a teacher, helping me understand that fear doesn’t work, that it just generates more fear until it finds a place that doesn’t believe in it, a place where it disintegrates as any illusion must.
I used to believe that fear worked too. I used it a lot: I would get angry to make people do what I thought I wanted them to do; I would use it as a motivator for myself, spurring me on in a competitive whirlwind; I would start wars with anybody I thought was ‘against’ me; I was loud and manipulative and believed I was strong. Oh, the childlike innocence of it: to believe I could make things happen; to think that a tantrum would solve things; to imagine the world was against me! I was such a child and was afraid of being found out, so anger was my front.
Today I am such a child and reveling in it. I love my innocence! I love that I don’t know and no longer need to pretend that I do. I love that the more open and honest I become, the clearer both your and my innocence appear.
For there is no option but to be childlike, the only choice is whether or not to recognize it.