TEXT
Alice Sebrell
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Return to Sisyphus

Fear

 

About five years ago a person I admired very much asked me if I had any fears. The question caught me by surprise, but I gave it some thought and then answered “no”. She smiled but said nothing further. I wasn’t trying to hide anything or be deceitful; in that moment I just didn’t understand. For days the question nagged at me, and gradually I uncovered an astounding inventory of fears living inside my mind. I think of them as useless companions who have taken up residence inside my personality and who really don’t help out around the house at all…burdensome creatures taking up far too much space, time and energy. What follows is partial inventory of the fears I have met, all of which I consider to be useless:

 

fear of the dark

fear of toxic fumes

fear of getting old

fear of suffocating

fear of being the center of attention

fear of running out of money

fear of not knowing

fear of intruders

fear of losing my eyesight

fear of entrapment, fear of sickness

fear of the cold

fear of not getting enough sleep

fear of intimacy

fear of authority figures

fear of snakes

fear of loud noises

fear of rejection

fear of children

fear of not having enough time

fear of strangers

fear of failure

and of course, fear of being afraid.

 

The next time I saw my friend I told her that I had discovered that I did have a few fears. She nodded in agreement.