Tag Archives: fear

Her Name Was Desiree

CC Image • DonkeyHotey on Flickr

As my girlfriend and I round the corner of her apartment complex, her energetic Boston Terrier in tow, another evening walker passes us by.

“There’s a young girl sitting over there, crying,” he says. “Her mom was supposed to pick her up, but she hasn’t come yet. You should say something nice to her.”

This random statement from an older man that neither of us knew causes us to exchange quizzical glances. With slow steps, made more unsure by the sure-to-be awkward situation, we approach the young girl. The evidence of her sadness, mixed with a tinge of embarrassment, shows in the tear stains beneath her timid eyes.

We walk right by her at first. We had dinner to get to after all. But we don’t venture much further than a few steps when both of us turn around, aware of a child, really, in need of help.

“What time were you supposed to be picked up?” “6:30,” she says quietly. I look at my phone. It’s 7:30. ”Do you want to call someone?” She nods. I hand her my phone. She dials two different numbers.

No answer.

“We’ll come back and check on you in a bit, to make sure that someone’s picked you up.” Another nod.

We go back inside and start dinner. In five minutes, we head back outside, hoping that we won’t see the girl because her mom has finally arrived. We peek around the corner and—voila—she’s gone. “Maybe she just hid because she’s embarrassed,” my intuitively smart girlfriend says, so we walk a bit further down. Sure enough, the girl reappears. We approach and she doesn’t see us.

I didn’t get her name the first time. (It’s this thing I do when I’m hoping a chance encounter doesn’t require anything of me). I ask now, “What’s your name?”

Barely audible, she says “Desiree.”

“Do you want to try to call again?” She nods. No answer. “Is your mom usually on time?” “Yes.” I stare at the ground. It’s almost dark. I’m at a loss as to how to help. Then, a white car pulls up and Desiree starts to walk toward it. I assume it’s her mom, but I don’t go to the car. I smile and wave, and my girlfriend and I walk back to her apartment, glad that the issue has resolved itself.

But the entire event unsettles me. read more »

Feigning Fearlessness

Allow me to quote a quote of a quote:

“He was a frail, sickly child, afraid of many things. So he stayed inside his house a lot and read books, mainly adventure stories. One day he was reading a novel by the English author Frederick Marryat. In his autobiography, Roosevelt records what happened:

‘In this passage the captain of some small British man-of-war is explaining to the hero how to acquire the quality of fearlessness. He says that at the outset almost every man is frightened when he goes into action, but that the course to follow is for the man to keep such a grip on himself that he can act just as if he was not frightened. After this is kept up long enough, it changes from pretense to reality, and the man does in very fact become fearless by sheer dint of practicing fearlessness when he does not feel it.’”

In context (The Art of War for Writers, to be precise), author J.S. Bell is talking about feigning fearlessness in the face of the daunting tasks of living a writing life, to act as if you are one until you become one. Author Steven Pressfield would call this manning your station, day-in, day-out, so that the Muse will find you hard at work and reward you as such.

And while this is helpful and true and beneficial advice, I read more into it.

The warring parts of my soul (some might even say the Jacob hovering above my right shoulder and the Lockeness Smoke Monster hovering over my left) answer the conundrum of feigning fearlessness differently.

Smokey answers: Your bad habits? The things you despise about yourself? The things you always want to change but you never seem to be able to shake them? You’ve been feigning godliness for a long time. Your pretense is not your reality. I know what’s real. You should just give up.

Jacob answers: I know what’s real. I can see behind the facade of your charades. I know your heart, your will. You have, actually, been feigning godliness for a long time, but that makes you just like all the others. And to see that you still try, despite the short hand you’ve been dealt? That you keep pressing on and pressing in and pressing forward impresses me. Don’t forget that. But don’t let it go to your head either.

And I answer: I used to be afraid, and because I was afraid I became numb. When the world changed and I was shocked back into feeling reality, I barely held on. I almost lost my grip, but I kept feigning fearlessness, and now that fearlessness… it’s almost real.