The Sacred Interior of Fear

There is an excitement that rests timidly in the crevices that act as fissures within the known. We approach these junctures in our experience with the trepidation we hold from the traumas in our lives. We fear that which might harm us in the unknown territory that awaits. We act out, based on who we believe we are as a result of our experiential sculpting. And still, below all these layers, lies a bedrock of excitement that is the very essence of fear.

This is why we seek out terrifying experiences, packaged in containers of safety. Thrilling rides and horrifying tales stimulate this need for excitement that we all hold. What differs from person to person is the intensity of this internal drive and the layers of trauma that coat it.

The curves of our relationship to fear are like the hills and dales of a roller coaster. The climb is the anticipatory excitement building under the layers of anxiety we carry with us onto the ride. The drop is the release. For some, it is an experience of losing one’s self in the rush, while for others, it is a seemingly endless string of moments, wishing for its end.

This is our experience with fear and it varies tremendously by person. To say that one kind of experience is somehow better than another misses the entire point of being alive. For we are, each one of us, expressions of a sacred and profound internal order. Its unique expression into the world, in all its imperfection, is the beauty of humanity and the life that courses through our veins.

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