Now that's a scary question.
Fear is one of our strongest signals. It reaches us at surface level, causing the ripples and waves in the lake of our hearts.
It's trying to tell us something, but what? It never directly lets us know. For the surface fear is only the immediate fear, there's fear underlying that too.
I have a very blessed life, and I do mostly enjoy it. I'm fortunate to live in a city I love, do work I find interesting with people I enjoy being around, and have friends who I care about, and care about me.
I've no need to fear tomorrow, as I'm blessed to have some savings in the bank should the worst come about.
And yet, many mornings, I don't really want to get up. I don't really want to face the day.
It's not that I'm lying there paralysed by fear. I'm not depressed and I don't hate my life.
But I lie there, because I prefer the known of the duvet, than the unknown of what the day may bring. That unknown being an adventure, that adventure always bringing with it fear.
They say that courage is not the absence of fear, but acting in despite of it. It's not all that courageous to wake up in the morning and get out of bed. But it is the first mini challenge of whether I'm going to be proactive in my day, or let it happen to me.
There's many things that combine in my fears, they intertwine under the surface and look to hide in the dark. I can sense them but I'm not fully conscious of them. They're there but they're what?
I know fear of rejection is certainly a big one. That one is definitely siblings with fear of loneliness. With my basic needs taken care of, loneliness is the biggest threat to my wellbeing, and I know that.
Ironically, fear gives me this insight, as a signal into my consciousness. But if I let it play out it's natural course, it makes me more likely to be lonely than less. It naturally leads to inaction, or misaction, than remedies.
But it's a signal, is all.
It could be a misfire, an overplaying of something that's not there, a bug in the system. Or it could be a helpful nudge, a reminder of the importance of the very thing that is under threat.
And so fear is a strange one. It can be a foe or an ally. It can be the very thing that sparks chaos in our lives, the ignition to a flame that can burn down our lives. Or it can be a helper, sending signals, sometimes accurate, other times not, that we can acknowledge, ponder, and file away, not letting it dictate but not suffocating, either.
And so on this Sunday morning, as I lie here in bed, yet again procrastinating on starting my day, I'm wondering what fear is saying to me today.
What's going on in the depths that are causing these bubbles at the surface? What's going on in my heart? I'm listening.