On Choice

A few months ago, I wrote on the topic of “Hope” and how I have often struggled with this concept. The beginning of a new year seems an appropriate time to revisit the notion of hope, and see where it leads. Do I feel hope? Do I not feel hope? Should I feel hope? Is there any point in being hopeful?

In my earlier meditation on hope, I shared with you an essay by Zen Buddhist Roshi Joan Halifax called Wise Hope. In this essay, Roshi Halifax explores how Wise Hope “reflects the understanding that what we do matters, even though how and when it may matter, who and what it may impact, are not things we can really know beforehand [...] But our vows, our actions, how we live, what we care about, what we care for, and how we care really do matter all the same."

This exploration of Wise Hope, particularly the notion that “what we do, matters,” got me thinking that “what we give our attention to” matters; “what thoughts we cultivate,” matters. 

And this exploration of where we place our attention got me thinking about another recurrent topic for me: Fear, and the nature of my relationship to fear. What is fear? How has fear been present in my life? How does fear live in me? When am I aware of fear? What do I do when I am aware of the presence of the feeling of fear? 

Over time, I’ve gained a greater awareness of the almost constant presence of fear in me, in others, in the world. I'm not necessarily referring to the "freak-out-panic kind of fear," but more to that dullish fearful feeling that is always there, in the background, waiting to be noticed and to be invited in. 

Sometimes I feel it as an undulating wave in my body, or a low buzzing or humming, barely discernible. Sometimes I am aware of it through my thoughts, fearful thoughts beckoning for my attention.

Although less and less common for me nowadays, the low level buzzing sometimes can take over like a swarm of hornets looking to establish a new colony in my head. Clamoring “Let me in, let me in!” That’s when I reach out to a friend for a reality check.

In different levels of intensity, the fear seems ever-present. Like the air we breathe or the water fish swim in.

Sometimes I catch myself scanning the horizon of my attention for reasons to be fearful. Generally, there are none. Generally, I can confirm that my outward circumstances have not changed from yesterday to today, from last night to this morning, from an hour ago to now. What has changed are the thoughts inside my head. But why do the thoughts change, sometimes so suddenly, from ease to fear? Well, that’s the great mystery!

Is it, perhaps, that fearing has become a habit of mind, learned and rehearsed over a lifetime? Over centuries? Over civilizations?

I know for a fact that I’m not alone in having this experience of fear. So today's musing is about "outing" the fear, not shaming it.

In my exploration of the “fear phenomenon,” I’ve been practicing giving my attention to the presence of the “feeling of fear” and to the fearful thoughts “as thoughts.” Doing this has had a significant effect on my experience of "fear" and on my choice of response, an effect quite different from when I give my attention to the fear as if it were a thing with material reality.

And I’ve also been asking myself: Is it possible that the material world we live in is a world created by our fearful thoughts? No wonder it can be challenging to maintain hope sometimes!

Apparently, I’m not the only one asking this question! The tagline from one of the many “good news” publications that have been surfacing reads: “Let’s create the future of our dreams instead of our fears” (The Progress Network). 

Hmmm . . . There’s food for thought right there!

For their year end retrospective, The Progress Network and their sister publication The Future Crunch published a report called “99 Good News Stories You Probably Didn’t Hear About” in which they state:

"Unlikely as it may seem, 2022 was a year of uplifting human rights victories, extraordinary conservation wins, big milestones in global health and development, and an unprecedented acceleration in the clean energy transition. We won’t try to convince you to take one side over the other in a debate about optimism and pessimism — the world is far too complex for that. Instead, our goal is to remind you that away from the headlines, millions of people from every corner of the planet are doing their best to solve the problems that can be solved, and are staying open-eyed and open-hearted even in the most difficult of circumstances.”

I don’t know if there is reason to be hopeful, or optimistic, or pessimistic about the state and future of the world. 

What I do know is that I can choose where to place my attention, and that where I choose to place my attention, my thoughts, my energy, does have an impact on how I feel and what I do.

How I feel and what I do have an impact on those around me, and by extension on the world -- even if in ways that I can’t always predict or control or know.

So as I bring intentionality to my actions, when I notice fear’s seductive beckoning I will pause, I will smile, and I will lend it my compassionate attention and ask: “Dear Fear, what is it that you come to tell me?” And I will listen with kind ears.

And I will choose my response.

Photos by Donna C. Roberts