Fear is faith it won’t work out?

“Fear is faith that it won’t work out”~Buddha.

Ever heard that saying? When I first did I was disturbed. Does that mean all my fears are truly based on an innate desire for things not to work out? Not likely.

Perhaps its the continuous thought that its not going to work, the “I’m not sure”declaration, that grows and manifests into that which is referred to as ‘faith’. If you follow the infamous ‘Secret’ (which quotes the bible funnily enough). That is exactly what it is. You think about it, brood over it and in turn,  the actions which follow lead to the inevitable execution of all the negative scenarios created in your mind.

Tonight I sit, with high expectations,the excitement of a child and the fear of an adult as to what the next few days/weeks hold and how my future may be affected. My mind is clicking, brushing up on my second language, calculating what outfit I will wear, and who I need on speed dial to keep things casual and light when I start to panic.

I haven’t walked in yet, into that which may be and hopefully will be the start of a new chapter in my life. Bittersweet fear grasps me. All I can proudly say is that, what is meant to be will be and the best is yet to come, and that which grasps me is NOT faith that it won’t work out. Just human nature.

Most of the things you worry about NEVER happen.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Annie says:

    I like G. K. Chesterton's poem, “The End of Fear”. I wish I had discovered it earlier in life. It's meaning and importance probably would have been lost on me then, though. In any event, enjoy.


    Though the whole heaven be one-eyed with the moon,
    Though the dead landscape seem a thing possessed,
    Yet I go singing through that land oppressed
    As one that singeth through the flowers of June.

    No more, with forest-fingers crawling free
    O'er dark flint wall that seems a wall of eyes,
    Shall evil break my soul with mysteries
    Of some world-poison maddening bush and tree.

    No more shall leering ghosts of pimp and king
    With bloody secrets veiled before me stand.
    Last night I held all evil in my hand
    Closed: and behold it was a little thing.

    I broke the infernal gates and looked on him
    Who fronts the strong creation with a curse;
    Even the god of a lost universe,
    Smiling above his hideous cherubim.

    And pierced far down in his soul's crypt unriven
    The last black crooked sympathy and shame,
    And hailed him with that ringing rainbow name
    Erased upon the oldest book in heaven.

    Like emptied idiot masks, sin's loves and wars
    Stare at me now: for in the night I broke
    The bubble of a great world's jest, and woke
    Laughing with laughter such as shakes the stars.

  2. IndyLee says:

    Thank you so much for sharing Annie, it is beautiful and rings home.

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