I have spent so much of my life feeling afraid. Afraid of the dark, afraid of being teased, afraid of not being good enough. I have felt afraid of children, of grown ups, of teachers and bosses. Of girlfriends. Of heights. Of death. And of life. I used to have a long routine of things I needed to do before I could go to sleep, just to make it right and not die. Shakingly, I would lay down all covered up by my blanket, but still with a hole for fresh air since I was also afraid of being suffocated, with my head next to my pillow and resting exclusively on the right side, facing the wall. I was convinced I needed to breathe in a correct pattern, and hold my breath every time darkness passed by my bedroom door. Exhausted, and quite sweaty, I would finally fall asleep.
As a grown man I still notice my fears every day. In myself, and in my children. In the mailbox, as letters from the government. In my meetings with rules and structures, with entrenched conceptions of social order and frozen ideologies. A fear of people with authority, men especially, with strong opinions, with a potential for violence. I carry with me a deep-rooted fear of being wrong, so strong that I sometimes wonder if this is what our modern societies are constructed from. Shame and fear, shame and fear.
At the same time, I am slowly learning how to listen to a different authority. Only, this time, it is no authority, not in that way. It does not need to induce fear to achieve anything at all. It needs nothing, demands nothing, expects nothing. It is life. Flowing through me, in me, around me and everywhere I close my eyes.
Every time I feel my fears coming I try to stay with them. To follow them through my body, to give them my full attention, to love them to bits. Not to get rid of them, not to be right. To move closer in on life itself. To embrace my helplessness, my human condition, my dark spots, and to experience myself as something more. I may be afraid. It is a natural, logic reflection of where I am and where we are. But most of all where we were. Because we are moving. We are more. We are opening. Sensing life. Flowing through us, in us, around us and everywhere we close our eyes.
I have spent so much of my life feeling afraid. I am fine with that. And now, let us feel a whole lot more
This is a calling to slow down and listen. To take a deep breath and explore our personal connection with Mother Earth. The feminine and masculine, the beautiful and dirty, the real, the messy, the sacred. Once it was natural. Today it feels crucial.
For the next 100 Days I will write a book to the Earth. For the Earth. With the Earth. The book, and the journey, is also to you. For you. And with you. Together, we are everything.
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