Listening to My Fear

“I got out my old calendars and checked. We used that Groupon. I didn’t lose three hundred dollars, afterall,” I told Fred, and he gave me a hug and a kiss.

It was a sunny Friday, and we’d just gotten back from a bike ride in Pitt Meadows. On that ride, I told Fred what happened to me on Tuesday evening. It took me three days before I could talk about it. Then I finally had the courage to check my records and find out if I had lost the money. That took less than five minutes.

When the facts were before me, I felt relieved but not sorry that I went through what I did, as uncomfortable as it was. I felt compassion for that part of me that was so panicked. It was paralyzed, afraid to look in case what I feared was true. I’m grateful that this part of me got to speak up and reveal the fear it carried. Now it’s in the light and, together, we can notice when that fear comes again, hold on tight to God, and let it pass.

As I was writing this, the phone rang. Fred took the call, and I left my writing to listen. I overheard that Hadrian, our grandson, was not going to come for a sleepover as planned. I felt a pinch, a little “Oh, no!” It sounded like he preferred to do something else.

He just turned fourteen. I always knew the day would come when this could happen, but that doesn’t mean I won’t feel the loss, and I was feeling it. I looked at the chocolate cupcakes and the veggie dogs defrosting on the counter and felt sad.

After Fred hung up the phone, he explained that Hadrian was feeling under the weather. He wanted to come alright, but needed to stay home and rest.

We were disappointed he couldn’t come, but I also felt a sweet relief. He still wants to come.

I returned to my laptop, writing and reflecting. The wave of sadness I felt when I thought Hadrian didn’t want to come revealed a fear. Something in me is afraid of how I will feel when our grandkids stop coming regularly for sleepovers. It will happen, and we will feel sad, but I don’t need to be afraid of the sadness.

I almost ended my post there and then realized later that I’d dismissed my fear.

What if it wasn’t ready to go? What if it had more to say to me?

Sure enough, it hadn’t gone far. I welcomed my fear to take a seat and tell me why it was so afraid of losing this pleasure?

I heard that it isn’t that I won’t feel loved or lack worth. I don’t like losing something that I count on to make me feel good, like being responsible with my money makes me feel good.

Then I saw it plainly: I believe I need to feel good to be happy.

I see how that belief winds me up. If I don’t feel good, I think there’s something wrong that needs fixing or I think about what I can do so I can feel good . . . or I just eat something.

What would it be like to let go of that belief? What if I simply surrender to this moment and receive what’s in it with openness and curiosity? How might this moment be a gift to me, just as it is? 

Welcome, welcome, welcome.
I welcome everything that comes to me today
because I know it’s for my healing.
I welcome all thoughts, feelings, emotions, persons,
situations, and conditions.
I let go of my desire for power and control.
I let go of my desire for affection, esteem,
approval and pleasure.
I let go of my desire for survival and security.
I let go of my desire to change any situation,
condition, person or myself.
I open to the love and presence of God and
God’s action within. Amen.
–Father Thomas Keating

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

In this short video, Cherry Haisten introduces the practice of Welcoming Prayer taught by Father Thomas Keating. Welcoming prayer, spiritual direction, and focusing practices have helped me understand how feelings reside in my body and need to be welcomed and heard. They express how a part of me is feeling. When I am grounded in God, I am more able to move to a place of observing that part and welcoming my feeling instead of being identified with it. I can hear what my feeling wants me to know and see how it’s trying to help me, even if that help is not the help I need. In an interview with Tami Simon, psychologist and founder of Internal Family Systems, Richard Schwartz, talks about these parts of ourselves and explains why he believes there are no bad parts. 

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
Leaf, fall, autumn, walking” from Pixabay. Public Domain.
“Giving Hands” by Artotem. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2021.  http://www.estherhizsa.com

About Esther Hizsa

Esther is a spiritual director and writer. She lives in Burnaby with her husband, Fred, and they have two grown children and two grandchildren.
This entry was posted in compassion, Mindfulness, Overeating, Prayer, Reflections, Spiritual Direction, Stories and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Listening to My Fear

  1. lynn says:

    Thank you for this today Esther 😉 I always love your blogs, but just the reminder I needed today!

    Like

  2. Pingback: Astonishing Things Can Happen | An Everyday Pilgrim

  3. Pingback: Doing Things that Don’t Spark Joy | An Everyday Pilgrim

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.