acknowledging fear - a personal confession

Yesterday I posed a few questions, asking each of you to find the inner courage to explore the depth and breadth of your fears. I gave you a superficial explanation of why my own exploration of these fears is personally so difficult. And I posited that there was no need to share your fears with me, as the discovery of the fears themselves is difficult enough without the additional hardship of opening your soul to others.

How impossible it seems at times to imagine bearing our naked souls, with their most vivid contours of ugliness. And yet that seemingly impossible task is perhaps essential, at least for me. Deep down inside, I know my fears. Not all of them of course, but many that I have continued to deny and suppress in order to feel more comfortable in my own skin. And those of which I am aware, those are the ones that despite my awareness, continue to invade my existence and impede my journey of passion. So I feel compelled to share these fears with you, at least to the capacity of which I am able. My story, my confession, as it may be, will hopefully open the doors a little wider and allow a little more passion to seep into the core of my being.

~Barrier to an International Dream~

The glossy pages of a magazine glare up at me from its opened position on my lap. The story headline captures my eye and my attention quickly becomes focused on the beautified pictures. The face of a celebrity stares back at me, her emotions measured by the slight smile of her full lips and the look of sympathy that escapes from her dark, captivating eyes. But it is not her beauty that paralyzes me. Rather, it is the illustrations of desolation and loneliness in which she has immersed herself that pull so fiercely at my heartstrings. The tiny dark children she holds upon her lap are emaciated from the deprivation of nourishment and nurturance. As I study the images and I read of the millions of children encapsulated in this world of suffering, I catch yet another glimpse of a dream I have long hidden from the world. A dream which I have buried out of fear. A dream which I have relinquished under fear’s imprisoning power. A dream that is not reflected by the publicity and beauty of the celebrity on the page, but is only mirrored by the desire to nurture and nourish these children.
At times, I have gathered the courage to think of the practical logistics involved in my hidden dream. And it is these practicalities that have been confronted on the front lines by fear’s demolition. Fears of the long flights necessary to reach my destinations. Fears of the native diseases that could threaten and perhaps take refuge in my ignorant body. Fears of living in a way of life to which I am not accustomed. Fears of being confronted by the daily images and experiences of death. Fears of mental and emotional collapse beneath my already worn nerves and episodes of darkness.
I am ashamed of these fears. I despise them and want to banish them from the home they have claimed within me. I want to fight them and destroy them and gain strength through my battles with them. But I do not know how to do that. And I know that they are not all completely unreasonable fears. And so the essence of the conflict is not necessarily how to eliminate the fears, but rather to determine if the fears are worth forsaking a dream. And that is an answer that I do not have…not now, not yet.