Everybody is unique. We are like ice cream; fundamentally the same, made out of the same stuff, but essentially different, each with our own special flavour.
And that means we each have our own unique fear voice.
Our ego inspires fear in us using its own unique rhythms. We take all the experiences of fear in the world and make our own special collage of terror. Bits from our parents, bits from our church, bits from pop culture, bits from our peers, coming together to make a pastiche of anxiety designed just to keep us small and maintain the status quo, no matter how constricting it is.
Hell, some of us have a fear voice that channels compartmentalization and avoidance, and that voice sounds like a motivational speaker or mystic, telling us to rise above the mess, the real challenges of our life, covering them over with pink paint or banner slogans.
One thing fear voices have in common, though, is that they all start with reasonable, rational and true facts. The centre of every fear is a real possibility, of failure, pain or separation.
Our fear voices, though, take that kernel of truth and magnify it, just like our youthful imaginations took a shadow on a wall or a bump in the night and magnified it into a monster. What better excuse for needing the attention of the ones we love than a monster who strikes terror into our heart?
The most intimate relationship most of us have may be with our fear voice. In our darkest and most challenging moments, it’s always there to tell us to believe that reptilian fight or flight pull in our brain. Yes, it whispers seductively, pull back, seek shelter, take a drug, hide yourself, become invisible. Or, if that won’t work, then lash out, strike back, go crazy, slam them hard, invoke the terror, spread the fear. Flight or Fight. Either works for fear.
It’s risk beyond training that the fear voice screams or whispers at us to avoid. If we do that, our worst fears will come true, unleashing the beast, opening Pandora’s Box, bringing retribution and stigma against ourselves, losing everything we value.
Our fear voice, our ego, that siren call to avoid discomfort, is ours, well created, well crafted, well integrated and uniquely our own.
It tells us not to remove the broomstick, never to remove the broomstick, not to even notice the broomstick, because the broomstick stuffed up our ass must be what is keeping us safe.
Of course we love our fear voice. It kept us company in the darkest times, when we were most scared.
The problem is, though, that it is that fear voice that was scaring us. Manipulative old self fulfilling prophecy fear voice.
Old friend. Real enemy.