Fearaphobia
by Jon Worley

Fear rules the world. I don't need to defend this statement; its veracity should be clear to everyone.

Everybody is afraid of something. In general, people are afraid of other people for a wide variety of reasons. We fear different races, colors and creeds, and that's just for starters. We fear someone who has a weapon we don't. We fear someone who had control of our job. We fear "the man". We fear jack-booted thugs. We fear nudie pix. And yes, a whole bunch of people fear Ron Jeremy for more reasons than he can shake his, um, talent at.

I myself have a fear. I have a fear of being afraid. I don't want that. I wish to avoid making any decision based on fear. In fact, I'm terrified of finding myself in the position of making a fearful decision. Luckily, there's an out. In order to allow fear to play into my decisionmaking, I have to let it in. I have to invite fear into my heart and give it a place to stay.

You know, that sounds a lot like the revival preacher's metaphor for Christian conversion. And the thing is, all those folks who wander up to the altar call are making decisions based on fear. I would put money down that those folks are actually accepting fear, and not Jesus. Fear of hell. Fear of (insert preferred racial group here). Fear of music. Fear of knowledge.

Oooh, that's a biggie. When you consider that fundamental to the fundamentalist philosophy is a hatred of knowledge (the only Truth is in the Bible, and any non-Biblical text must be inspired by the Devil), there must be a serious eduphobia going on.

Of course, fear breeds fear. Once people have removed themselves from the proximity of one big fear, another must manifest itself. White flight to the suburbs has become white flight to the countryside. And while violent crime may be somewhat less a threat out in the hinterlands, problems like extraneous critters, lyme disease (or hanta virus, or....), unmarked well shafts and more await. There's always something to fear.

I don't want to live like that. I refuse to bow to fear. I'm a writer, among other things, and I write what sounds good to me. Lots of folks have called me many names for what I've written, and my works hasn't seen much mainstream publication. I could let those folks intimidate me into writing more "regular" prose, but I don't. Mostly because words in a letter or e-mail don't quite arouse the fear that some ex-pro wrestler wielding a broken bottle might.

Alright, faced with that situation, I might haul ass out of fear. But I'd still feel bad about it afterwards.

I know lots of people who have chosen jobs or moved to different places out of fear. These are the sorts of people who pick careers based on what some magazine says will be a "hot" job in the future. They also tend to be folks who move out of a neighborhood as soon as the first black family moves in. Can't be too safe, they say.

But that's the whole thing: Life, big-L Life, isn't meant to be played safe. I mean, you have to participate. It may not be necessary to climb K2 to say you have truly lived, but it wouldn't hurt to wander up the largest hill in your vicinity and look out. See what is there to be seen. See all that you couldn't imagine before. Imagine yourself going places. Imagine yourself in a totally new life.

Scary? Then you are living in fear. No bones about it. And it's not an easy climb to a fearless (or at least, less fearful) existence. There's no 12 steps, because that would imply one way to Truth. That's the whole point. You have to accept that you can never learn every way to skin a cat. I mean, even John Woo would get stumped after concocting about 50 possible fur-rending procedures.

Sorry about that tangent. Hopefully, you see my point. You have to imagine the possibilities. Embrace them. Revel in them. And then, when you're good and ready, take a step.

Jon Worley didn't move to York, Penn., out of fear. Nope. No way. Not at all.

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