“Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.” ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Far wiser writers than I have repeatedly taught me that hurt is part of our human experience. Everyone you or I meet has been hurt; most have healed as well.

We all carry past sorrows, losses, betrayals and heartbreaks in the back pocket of our hearts.

I have been a terrible student, though. I read, enraptured; listen and nod, and then I forget, and I walk through the world with one hand hiding my scars, trying to pretend they don’t exist.

And lately I have realized that I walk with fear, too.

For all my talk of fearlessness, I am afraid.

I face heights and snakes with a steady hand, and darkness and distance with unblinking eyes, but the risk of emotional pain scares me still. This I have not conquered, yet.

I wonder if that is because I have not accepted the ubiquity of hurt. I cannot face what I pretend not to see.

Everyone has been hurt. I listen to others’ stories with empathy, but I rarely share my own. Those dark corners and pockets are my deepest secrets, though I needn’t be ashamed of them. I try to cover my cracks, but still the light sneaks in.

Lately I’ve been thinking, when I feel fear in day to day situations, I don’t deal with it by pretending my fears are not justified:

When riding a motorcycle, I know the risk of accident is very real. I accept that risk and enjoy the wind in my hair anyways.

When jumping into dark water, I don’t know what lies beneath the surface. I accept that uncertainty and jump, and my mind immediately clears.

When encountered with a large spider or snake, I know it is probably poisonous. I choose to laugh at my racing pulse because my choices are quite limited, and I would rather smile.

I would rather smile.

Every day I move through this world I confront a swirl of dangers, risks seen and unseen, and every day I overcome another fear. Faced with uncertainty, darkness and threat I choose to smile, because what are my choices?

I acknowledge my vulnerability, but I do not allow it to dictate my actions. I refuse to be cowed by these grim realities.

And yet, for all my talk of fearlessness, I am afraid.

I am afraid of being hurt, again.

And I don’t smile, I cry.

I don’t jump, I stand frozen at the edge of trust, unable to leap.

I don’t accept the inevitability of risk—I resist, and my resistance makes me tired and anxious.

So these words are for me, and for anyone else with a fear to acknowledge, face, and let go:

Of course, I will be hurt.

It is inevitable.

Of course, each moment of trust—in the universe, in the unseen terrain beneath the surface, in others—is a moment of risk.

Jump anyways.

Of course, people will hurt me.

Accept the possibility, and enjoy the wind in the meantime.

Of course, I have every reason to be afraid.

But I have every reason to smile, too.

And I would rather smile.

 

“Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself.” ~ Paulo Coelho

 
 

Relephant Read:

Facing Fear in Handstand.

 
 

Author: Toby Israel

Editor: Renée Picard

Photo: Greg Harrinton/Pixoto