I was in the shower last night and the phrase on the right popped into my head. I remember it from the movie ‘A Cinderella Story’ and for me, it was just another prop within the movie to aid the plot and steer the central character to her eventual happy ending.
I finally took time to pause, do some soul search and meditate on its meaning. Fear is a funny thing, it provides a deceptive cover of security when in actual fact it keeps us rooted in situations we would be better off leaving behind.
Letting go of fear for me is like letting go of a close companion I’ve had for years; difficult tedious and emotionally draining. Some days it feels like one step forward and two steps back but at least there’s movement and with movement, progress.
So, like me, everyday step up to the bat and play the game the best way you can cause it’ll totally be worth it.
When you see this sign in the movies or in real life the corresponding emotion is sadness and a sense of loss. A life, probably left unfinished, has ended.
Why so sad?
As for me, I’m cultivating an equal footed/healthy fear of both pain and death. Its inevitable. So Deal.
I find myself thinking about life and its meaning. We are placed here for numbered days and expected to make the most of the time spent here. In spite of our knowledge that our time here is numbered, we live in fear of our eventual exit.
One would think that the inevitability of death would make us more accepting of death when it does come. But it has the opposite effect. Have we become so adept at maintaining the elusive control over our lives that the thought of letting go frightens us? Death is part of life.
I’m not afraid of dying in the real sense of the word. I have faced death a few times and literally watched my life flash before my eyes and in those times, I admit, I experienced a momentarily fear but acceptance followed almost immediately. My fear was not for myself but more for the people who would be affected by my passing – my family. Their dreams and expectations for the life that seemed unfinished; but was it really, unfinished?
A common phrase from people who have lost loved ones is always ‘It gets better with time’. Though a painful experience, but the wound caused by the death of a loved one will eventually heal and the scar fade with time.
My question is, If the pain fades, the scars disappear and the treasured memories eradicated with time and the simple act of living, what then is the point of it all? Why fear death? Why the constant pursuit of material gain that is transient? Why the constant desire to brand our families and friends with tiny prints of us?