Afraid of Nothing

Afraid of Nothing

My life is like an old book, strangely written, on musty pages. I wake up and try to remember how the story goes. The mind is foggy from sleep and can’t quite remember where it left off. A sense of panic sets in – the characters from the story seem indistinct and the plot vague.

I reach for this old "book" and flip the pages anxiously. God, what amazing crap is there! Who would believe any of this? Who would want to read it even the first time through? A publisher would laugh me out of his office.


Nevertheless, the story reaches for me, indifferent to its vagaries and inconsistencies. "Come back, come back," it beckons. "Read a bit from this chapter or that one – they were a little better, remember?"

But no, my heart is saying. And it hurts very much to comprehend that all this IS just a story - and that it could be ANY story. Everyone has a story, and everyone thinks theirs is pretty important – even if they hate it.

The heart says no because it feels an invisible Vortex swirling. The Vortex is drawing it closer. And the heart senses that entering this Vortex, passing through that energetic passageway, is to lose the story forever.


The heart must unburden itself as a camel passing through the eye of a needle, as Jesus said: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God” (Mat. 19:24). We are rich with our tales of who we are and what we are - even if they are bad fiction.

But only the poor can enter the kingdom of heaven. “Blessed be ye poor: for yours is the kingdom of God” (Luke 6:20).

The heart sees what the path toward such poverty means, and it feels fear. To lose the story, all the stories, means having nothing and being nothing. It is a fearful prospect to have, and to be, NOTHING.

And the heart is afraid of nothing.