The Flight of Fear

It can swallow us whole.

Eat us.

Our response to a trigger inside. Something the brain tells us.

To leave.

Be afraid of.

Wilt away from.

Unable to face.

Is it anxiety or an emotion?

Inside of us the turmoil rips and tares.

It stings.

Resting heavy.

Akin to the darkness of the night.

Intuitively, you know. Soon this fear shall pass.

Yet, our heart plays tricks.

The mind says so. The body listens.

But, like the surge of an airplane taking off. We can also choose to let it go.

To leave it behind.

Watch the gush of water sparkling over shiny rocks in a forest flowing steadily downstream. 
There is no turning back.

Stand tall.

Let it go.

Feel how the love of the Universe abounds.

Look up.

Focus.

Let the stars in the sky take the flight of your fears away.

Inside Out

Snakes do it. Humans do too. Not quite as drastically. Shedding skin that is.  

I got on this train of thought in contemplating inhibitions. Preconceived notions. Fear of what other people may think. That kind of thing.

As a teenager worried about my wardrobe my mother used to chime up with “What makes you think you’re so important everyone is going to look at you?”

Who trained our minds to worry about such nonsense in the first place?

We did of course.

But why?

In Uganda when you ask a child to dance there’s this natural rhythm that comes out. Expressions in their eyes even. No holding back. 
Ask an individual from our world, a perhaps more developed civilization and chances are they aren’t going to dance like no one is watching.

What’s up with that? Why do we instill a stigma of what other people may or may not think that perhaps stops us from being who we truly are?

To be who we are, we can’t be afraid to turn ourselves inside out.

Fear of Africa

Do something everyday that scares you. How often have you read that? Motivational... humm, I find that questionable. Yet too often in life we don’t take chances. We do what we know, what is safe, what is within our natural boundaries.

I’ll have a few housemates when I’m in Uganda this November/December. Two of whom I spent time with tonight. In discussing Africa, Martha turned to me early on and pointed this question:

“Is there anything you’re afraid of?” she led with promise.

Without hesitation the only answer that jumped into my head was, “The shots.”

It felt like a round table. Both Jim and Martha had already been. Jim more then once. Martha confessed before she went she was afraid of everything. Upon her return, the only scary thing she claimed from her time in Uganda was the traffic. The drivers. Jim’s salutation of a Ugandan driver was picture perfect.

He described their agility. Growing up as hunters. Stalking. Moving like a gazelle. Now put that individual behind a wheel of a car and they think they can do anything.

While poverty is rampant so is corruption. When help arrives, there’s a realization that the big picture can’t easily be fixed. 

“You can’t imagine how they keep their spirit up. Their life is a landmine,” shutters Martha. She later spoke about what we have here. “Things are so different. We have no challenges. No ability to really help create change. No adventures.”

I’m already thinking I should be taking my 18 year-old son with me.

Then Jim’s warning was sounded.
“You never go to Africa once,” he claims. “With Africa you end up getting connected. You make connections with people that add meaning to your life.”

I settle home to sit and write this and continually ponder to myself, why would anyone be afraid to go to Africa?