We Thank Our Fear

There are fears that lie deeper than our fear of death. Fears so great that in the face of them we would gladly turn to death for comfort like an old friend. They lay rooted deep in our subconscious, feeding Resistance and strumming the thought-strings of our mind like a maniacal harpist. These are the fears we must bring to the light of day.

Carefully excavating each layer like a sun-worn paleontologist--tracking every detail so that we can reconstruct this beast hidden beneath the surface. This process is not easy. For to bring them to the surface we must face them in faith that we will vanquish. But the only way to defeat them is to live them fully with our entire being. To feel the gnashing teeth ripping apart that which we hold more sacred than life itself. To surrender to the carnage, until we experience total loss.

Then in abject and absolute annihilation we can look to our heart. We find it is still there. That very essence of creation, nine layers deep, a single point of light emanating from an inexhaustible energy.

Connected to the source of all life itself. Connected to every molecule of creation. Every laugh that brings tears, every wiggle of toes in sand, every puppy shivering with excitement.

It is still there, we are still there, and once created will live forever as a spoke in the mandala of time. Even if the Earth itself was to disappear out of existence, this spark of godhood in our heart will carry on into the infinite quantum dimensions where planets and even universes blink on and off like a the light at a busy crosswalk.

When we find this truth in the eye of our fear, we realize that this terrible Leviathan was an ally all along. The stone upon which we could sharpen our consciousness. So we thank our fear, acknowledging our victory without pounding our chest in celebration. Perhaps just a quick smile as we carry on with our journey... head up, heart forward, sweet breath in our lungs, and solid ground beneath our feet.

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8 comments

  • Words well conceived and written Aubrey. You nailed it. I’ve struggled with this very lesson – and fought with all I had to keep from losing all I hold dear. Death isn’t the ultimate issue – the loss of all we love – the loss of our ‘holding onto’ these great loves – to not have these great loves to accompany us in some way on our final journey in this manifestation is a terrible thing to face and transcend. To really get that all is illusory is problematic. But it looks as though you’ve come-out on the other side and have found the answers.

    dharmabuilt
  • I have so much gratitude for your words this day Aubrey. Your particular vision of pursuing a lifetime of true fullness constantly inspires. May your path continue to light up the world brother!

    Jason Legaard
  • I can relate. Losing all ‘awareness’ means you’ve lost the ability to choose – to somehow manage to direct or transcend the experience(s). I too had an extremely traumatic ceremony almost a year ago – taken completely by surprise by it – when I thought I had the ‘skills’ necessary to manage things. I call it the ‘Maha Smackdown.’ It seems my sense of ‘control’ was imbued with an arrogance that needed to be revealed and understood. And I too re-visited the deepest of dark, long-buried, childhood wounding that dealt with betrayal, fear, and resulting (misdirected) rage. All I can say is ‘therapy’ – and therapy with a highly skilled, transpersonal practitioner that has some experience in these matters (the sacred medicines). One thing that has truly helped me was a ‘trialogue’ podcast I listened to a few months back: Ram Dass, Roshi Joan Halifax, and Frank Otaseski. Frank Otaseski said something that I really ‘got’ – “There is fear, we don’t have to deny it. What else is here? There is an awareness. If there’s something else, we have a choice.” I hope you find peace – you’ve done great, deep work. And the work continues unabated…

    dharmabuilt
  • Indeed. Thank you for putting that into words from me. Spoken like a true mystic.

    SkyOnFire
  • I wholeheartedly agree that there are fears so great that death would be a welcome reprieve when facing them. I am still recovering several months later from some very deep work with Ayahuasca (made with Acacia Confusa bark). Panic attacks, nightmares, post traumatic stress. It’s not pretty. Deep childhood wounds of abandonment among other things. Purely emotional trauma that I had no idea existed.

    Now, I’m doing my best to rebuild the walls that Ayahuasca burned down to shield myself from the pain. It’s not pretty, and I see no point in proceeding with my Ayahuasca work. My days of psychadelia are over, for fear of losing my sanity and grip on waking reality. Consider this a warning to psychonauts everywhere. If enlightenment is what you seek, putting yourself through inordinate amounts of pain is not necessary. Proceed with caution. End transmission

    SkyOnFire
  • My greatest subconscious, and now conscious, fear stems far past death. It consistently shows me even Death is no reprieve, that in fact, suffering will only come into full force upon leaving the ‘flesh vessel’.

    It’s been hell reconciling with this, coping in daily life with a weight that nothing can seemingly remove when it’s truly inspected. Slowly, bit by bit, I build a sanctuary. Over the years, I’ve seen glimmers of light through the black tar of abyssal damnation. Day by day, those who have treaded before me, such as yourself, leave small hints and hope.

    The one thing that really changed my perspective a great deal is a single sentence in one of your podcasts. I don’t even remember the context, but you spoke of faith. I had never thought of the word outside of a negative context within religion. It never occurred to me that faith could actually have meaning outside of a biblical text.

    I now have faith in things, in the future. I understand the word.

    Sometimes people say things without understanding that their little steps forward can be giant leaps, existential short-cuts for someone else who’s meandered along a different perspective. You’re single sentence has clung to me for the past few weeks, and I’ve sense a massive step forward in dealing with existential dread.

    Again, I hope we get to have tea some day Mr.Marcus! (That sounds disgusting by the way, I hope nobody refers to you like that).

    Jawn Bourne
  • ah yes… how the plants taught me all about Love and Fear! 2 sides of the same coin I was told. :)

    Jiro Taylor
  • This is the way to perceive fear. Well Written brother

    Sudarshan

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