Years back, I learned to walk straight into my fear. Of course, I first had to recognize it. It has taken a long time to get to the bottom of the collective angst that is present on planet earth today, to clearly see the fear at the base of the equation. For a while now, I have said I’m not sure if I am here to participate in the uprising of consciousness, bringing the reality of heaven to earth or to stand in love as the earth experiment ends. Recently, I came to the understanding that one did not preclude the other. It was most-likely a both/and scenario. Today, as my foot hit the hiking path, in that first precious moment, I saw something new. I was holding a fear, a rather large and unwieldy trepidation that our world is incinerating and that we will experience a level of cruelty and savage brutality unlike anything mankind has previously known.

Tears fall easily these days. I read an article or well-meaning post about our inhumanity and I can’t stop them from running down my cheeks. I am dropped to my knees sobbing more often than when Kenny was passing. Life as an empath is not easy in normal times, let alone in these unconscionably abnormal ones.  An empath feels everything. No one can hide who they are from someone who feels it all.  For many of us, being embodied is nearly more than we can stand. Some are leaving – exiting, taking one of their pre-planned escape routes – an early out. I get it. There are days when I don’t want to be here a moment longer too. And yet … I am here so I might as well learn everything there is to learn, feel everything there is to feel, live every moment as if it is the last. So I do.

When I saw the fear this morning I knew I had to enter in, to accept it absolutely, and let it percolate through my entire system, down to the last cell. This world will not survive. People will suffer. We have front row seats to a stunning display of man’s inhumanity to man. As a whole, we are that stupid and we will not wake up in time, at least not in sufficient numbers, to change the outcome. The earth experiment is done. There, I said it. The cat is out of the bag and I have no intention of cramming it back in.

Now, the hard part: I stop – I let it all in. I do nothing at all to change the course of karma … as if I could. I fully accept this story as a possibility, perhaps even a probability.

People are so afraid to meet their fear, fearing that doing so invites the inevitability. That is not what happens. This, like so many paradoxes in our world, is something quite different. In fact, the exact opposite is true.  Unmet fear manifests. It is a silent killer of dreams, and of the totality of life. Fear, once met, dissolves, for it has no power of its own. It is seen through and exorcised by the seeing. Only an unwillingness to meet it, gives it power. Unmet, it wears away all that is good, tearing at the heart and soul, suffocating the freely given breath until we succumb to its power or by grace, see it so clearly it drops suddenly like a stone.

It’s not a once and done as we would like; few things are. Tomorrow I will read another article or see the proof with my own eyes and the need to remind myself that this is will arise. I will stop and empty, listen and obey. Surrender does not preclude action. That’s impossible. We are vehicles of action, just normally ego acts rather than love. Surrender simply means that I will no longer be informed by fear, act from fear and unconsciously create more fear. Unencumbered by the hidden dread, I am free to listen to the still small voice within and act from love, as love.  As long as I have not met my fear, it is in control and will control my actions. The only way I have found to be a clear, pure vessel for compassion and caring, love and joy is to let the fear in, to make it a real probability, and let God sort out the details.

Eight years ago, a few weeks before Kenny left his body, I finally came to the point of accepting his death. In that moment, the moment I finally let it all in, I was told, Now … remain here-now. He is alive in this moment. Be here-now. Accepting his death was what allowed me to remain here-now. I could not be present, could not live in the here-now, when fear had control my life’s joy-stick.  When we can’t see our resistance, the fears that drive us, we are at the effect of that fear and will act in ways that we never would without fear’s influence. That is simply a fact.

Consciously being present allows the grace to descend and show us what we need to see.  It is not easy. It feels like the world is incinerating and it may be. It is, though, the price of freedom and well worth any price required. Perhaps this is the way of the Phoenix – the firebird that incinerates itself only to be reborn. According to legend, the Phoenix lived a long life – 500 years – not unlike a country. As its end approached, the immortal bird fashioned a nest of aromatic boughs and spices, set it on fire, and was consumed in the flames. From the pyre miraculously sprang a new phoenix. Maybe that’s what I will do – make a nest of boughs and spices and wait upon divine inspiration for my next steps.  It seems less insane than holding my breath, laying in bed tossing and turning, trying to hold the mind’s story of doom and devastation at bay.

I’d love to hear your reactions and thoughts on this post. Feel free to weigh in. I learn from everyone and every interaction so let’s communicate.