Fear

I opened the door to find stairs. Stairs that led down into a large rocky foggy field. The further you looked a great wall of fog created an orangish-tinted void. The only landmark I had was this staircase, but that was soon lost by my inevitable exploration. After finding a particularly important item I was met with an indescribable sense of fear. Something was watching me. As soon as I turned back to seek the stairs once more I felt that something was now closing in on me. I tried to see if I could catch a glimpse of my pursuer, but all I could see was the orange-tinted nothing that consumed my circumference. My pace quickened along with my heart rate. Even as I ran, I could feel it creeping closer. Finally, the stairs came into view, my lungs were burning, lactic acid crept into every nook and cranny of my muscles, my legs were heavy. I mustered the strength for one last push toward the stairs, this something only gaining closer and closer to me. As I reached the first step I could feel a hand brush the back of mine. Fitted with a new set of adrenaline I bounded up the steps and slammed the door behind me. I slid down using my body to block the door and then *knock, knock, knock*

Whatever was knocking wanted deeply to be known, *knock, knock knock.* Some part of me, something way deep inside thought maybe this something only wished to tell me something. What if I only felt fear because the circumstances would scare anyone, *knock knock knock.* This time felt more desperate. I turned to the door still bracing it shut as I slowly stood up. Taking a deep, slow breath I reached for the doorknob to turn it, I quickly opened the door to find not a person, not the stairs, but an octagonal study. In this study was a woman I was fond of facing a painting she had just completed. This painting looked like a map showing mountainous territory, the texture of the paint was congealing to itself layer after layer stretching out toward the viewer. Looking at it from here, you only saw the paint jutting from the canvas, stretching toward you. She was waiting for me and the item that I went to retrieve. The item I received was a light. I placed it down, plugged it in, and turned it on. She went to flip the study’s light off. When she did the light bounced off the texture to create a shadow. Though I couldn’t know for certain, this shadow looked just like my own figure. At that moment I knew that whatever was behind the door was me, and it wished so desperately to tell me something. I suppose it was telling me something now.

I’ve been having a great deal of dreams lately. I was expressing that I was dreaming in my “Death” Newsletter, well it’s only progressed. Besides maybe two outliers in this cannon, I’ve been facing many selections and forms of fear in my dreams. Here are a few instances of fear that have been made noticeable to me in these dreams:

• The fear of death. *

• Of a particular attack.

• Of an attacker, the pain of that and an unknown… will I die?

• The fear of being left behind.

• The fear of being trapped.

• The fear of not regaining something I’ve lost.

In all aspects, there’s a form that I wish to maintain, something threatening to disrupt this form, and a fear of that threat.

The thoughts we have of the unknown bring fear. How it will happen is out of our control, and that brings fear. We may even fear what will happen to someone else when we’re gone, fully disregarding our personal feelings for the wellbeing of another, an observation into a future only presentable in illusion. Fear, to me, is an emotion of something distant looming. Something, usually, not there, and when whatever that thing is that we’re afraid of happens, what happens? Do we still exhibit fear? I believe then, we fight, flight, or shut down. Whatever is happening is now in response to our actions, and maybe there will be newfound fear for a future event, but fear feels like it doesn’t have much of a place without future-casting. Thus, I’ve been challenging fear lately.

Ever since I had the aforementioned dream, fear has been a curious topic for me, becoming poignant lessons in all respects. Something that I began listening deeply to, and more often than not open the door as opposed to shutting it. After a somewhat traumatic house visit from someone’s ex-boyfriend, while I was at her place that resulted in police being called and a shaky post-sum up between the girl and me, I still decided to house sit for her. My primary reasoning was, I was afraid, so what would it be like to sleep in a place I’m afraid of now? Nothing happened to me. Nothing happens until it happens, but nothing, in fact, happened.

I have never enjoyed horror films, I think a lot of them just get a kick from scaring folks out of their seat. Some I respect but still distance myself from because I’d rather surround myself with something that allows me sleep at night. Yet, there’s this newfound desire to watch a few because I am, in fact, scared. There’s something really frightening but also honest in when things happen it happens, there’s not a lot of control one person gets in a situation like that. Watching someone’s autonomy get stripped away with little to no remorse is terrible to watch. But in my mind, it may have the power to act as a form of immersive therapy.

That’s sort of how our world works, events sort of just happen. It’s not clear whether or not we have control. If we do, it can be taken away and the only thing that’s happening is what is happening, and that’s scary. But usually, when it happens it happens and your responses to this happening won’t be known until it does. The fear comes from the thoughts about what may occur, we may be right, but most of the time we’re wrong, and in the end, they are simply thoughts.

Fear has its place. Fear has taught us what to stay away from, what to watch out for, who to trust, and who not to trust. Fear sets our sights further from us and helps us navigate a long winding road with many different routes. There is a reason fear is here. Fear should be observed in my opinion, as a message, a price to pay in anxiety to then transform into a question, “What is it trying to say to me?” Whether in my dreams or in the fear of life, I tend to understand that the more I seek and face the fear, staring it in the eyes, the more I learn. The more that I grow. The more that I personally become someone I’ve wanted to become. More than the person I already was. But I’d never be able to get to where I am today if I hadn’t been able to face the things I was afraid of. I would still be sitting in front of that door, barring entry, and listening to each and every *knock, knock, knock.*

Much love today and every day,

Matt Piper 🐅🌱

PS. If you enjoyed this newsletter and think someone else will too, please share it with them. Every bit of my writing is set in discussion, questions I ask myself, questions I ask others, and bits of the puzzle given to me through life. Discussion is primary in my creativity, philosophical questioning, and moment-to-moment understanding of this life I live. I hope to grow this newsletter and reach many more to create further discussion.

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