Fear

What is it that holds us back? Is out my own inadequacy and lack of capability. No. I’m intelligent, perceptive, and sensitive. Perhaps its my fear. Im scared. And I dont know what of. Of getting burnt? Of achieving? Of being the best I can be? Of making a real live difference? Of being successful? Of being happy? Is it all too much to be accountable for? Or am I really just scared of trying, ‘cos you never know what is going to happen, right?


I can’t keep comparing things to the way they were. What has been has come and gone, and will never return. I will never be exactly the was I was, and nor will the circumstances. If I keep comparing things, will I ever truly be able to live, as opposed to merely exist? I need to value the past for what it was – the past. I cant let it dictate my future. I have to take new things, new people, new challenges as they come. As every experience builds who we are, you cant let it dictate to you. Learn from it. Learn from others. Dont make their mistakes as well as your own.

Isn’t it sometimes ok to be a bit cheesy, a bit contrived, to say whats actually going on in your heart or your mind? To let the barriers down? To trust? But what if you’re not even sure if you can trust yourself anymore. Then what?

And as these thoughts spun and dizzied around in my mind late last night, preventing me from falling asleep and keeping me wide awake, I imagined the past meeting the future in some collision, where I ended up in tears and my make up ran down my face and I looked like a clown in mourning. A bit of bathos for you there. I imagined pain, and tension and perhaps even some anguish, but it was overwritten with care and compassion and understanding. But what if the latter isn’t present? And then the question came – what are you thinking? If only I could tell you. It would have been unfair of me to ask you the same question I couldn’t answer myself. But that doesn’t detract away from me wanting to know. If only you knew.

You’ve given me that little bit of faith back. Thank you. Thank Allah who brought you to me, or me to you. Even for this, I am grateful.

As the ebbs and flows of time tease us, do we become but servants of our own fate? Will we let ourselves be mocked, will I allow myself to be derided? Perhaps I’m scared that the past will cloud over whats to come. But I’ve got to be honest, about my intentions and about myself. I’m going to face things, I’m going to have to face myself. As scary as it is, worse than cockroaches or heights or being burnt, if I dont face myself, who will?