facing the unknown

 

Fear is a universal experience. 

Even the smallest insect feels it. 

We wade in the tidal pools and put our finger near the soft, 

open bodies of sea anemones and they close up.

 Everything spontaneously does that. 

It’s not a terrible thing that we feel fear when faced with the unknown. 

It is part of being alive, something we all share. 

We react against the possibility of loneliness, of death, 

of not having anything to hold on to.

 Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth.

If we commit ourselves to staying right where we are,

 then our experience becomes very vivid. 

Things become very clear when there is nowhere to escape.

When we really begin to do this, we’re going to be continually humbled.

 There’s not going to be much room for the arrogance 

that holding on to ideals can bring. 

The arrogance that inevitably does arise 

is going to be continually shot down by our own courage

 to step forward a little further. 

The kinds of discoveries that are made through practice

 have nothing to do with believing in anything.

 

They have much more to do with having the courage to die, 

the courage to die continually.

Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over

 to annihilation can that which is indestructible be found in us.

Things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing.

 We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem,

 but the truth is that things don’t really get solved.

 They come together and they fall apart. 

Then they come together again and fall apart again. 

It’s just like that. 

The healing comes from letting there be room

 for all of this to happen: room for grief, 

for relief, for misery, for joy.

~ Pema Chödrön

from When Things Fall Apart: 

Heart Advice for Difficult Times

with thanks to the Marginalian