The Illusion

Fear is back. 

At least you can recognize it now. In the confusion, hopelessness, feeling lost or directionless, little to no motivation, ice where there used to be fire, dark where there used to be light. Fear feels like loss. Fear feels like anxiety. Fear feels like sitting on the couch, frozen in place, held down by a force you can’t name. Thoughts racing. Heart pounding. Worst-case-scenarios playing incessantly across the back of your eyes like a bad teen drama with a terrible soundtrack. Insult to injury. If the plot is bad, at least give it good music. 

Fear is insidious. It defined insidiousness. It’s a shapeshifter, morphing from form to form as it clings to life like a cockroach in the apocalypse of your mind’s awakening. It must find a way to survive. For this reason, constant vigilance is necessary as you persist through navigating the endless labyrinth of your psyche. Fear will jump out at you like an overeager unemployed actor at a haunted house. What it doesn’t want you to know, is that just like that harmless theater kid disguised as Jason or Freddie or Dr. Hyde, it can’t actually hurt you. 

What can hurt you, is your reaction to the scare. Did you jump back too fast, smacking your head into a nearby wall? Did you reflexively drop to the floor and smash your knees as you fell? Did you scream and stumble backward, tripping over your own feet as you clumsily tumbled? Or did you just take off running through the darkness, crashing through whatever or whoever was in your path, leaving a wake of destruction? Your response to fear’s malignant tactics can be your accomplice or your enemy. 

Luckily, you are not unarmed in this miraculous journey through Consciousness and fear. Your mind’s armory is stocked with things you’ve learned along the way. You’re starting to understand fear, learning to see it for what it is: an illusion. An actor. A Scooby-Doo monster, just moments after being unmasked. Fear is a lie born from a natural survival instinct, nurtured by social conditioning, and perfected by your own ego. At its most effective, your ego can convince you that the world is your own adaptation of Final Destination; you become afraid of everything around you because you are afraid to die. The irony is that you are also afraid to live. Imprisoned by fear of death, of rejection, of shame, of guilt, of pain, you conform to society’s whims in inauthentic ways that slowly strip your spirit of will and resilience, leaving you feeling empty and unfulfilled. What an immaculate design. 

So when fear appears, let this question be your killshot: would you rather live while dead or die while living?

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