I Am Never Afraid of What I Know

Anna Sewell, author of Black Beauty, put those words, "I am never afraid of what I know," into the mouth of her protagonist.  I found them this morning when I was digging through a great old book I picked up at some library closeout sale, Topeka's I think.  The book is "The Quotable Woman," edited by Elaine Partnow, copyright 1978.  The quotations range from "1800--on" according to the cover though it occurs to me that the 'on' on the cover couldn't be less 'on' since it has a stopping point.

I pulled that book off the shelf to help me with something that is crippling me lately: fear.   I know that being ruled by fear is akin to lying down and giving up, but some days the shaking just won't stop. My horizon keeps shifting like last night's storm-adled sky.  Milky green light breaks to clouds and rain, turns bright whitish, and then becomes the most surreal blue, like the foreground in Dali's Galatea of the Spheres.   I feel like the woman in this picture lately, the whole of myself comprised of spheres, some overlapping and some disconnected but, without even one of them, my picture wouldn't be complete.  There are pieces missing, to be sure, but I hope the view is still worth seeing.

So, the book.  I went looking for quotations about fear from women strong enough to put into words just how ridiculous fear is.  Words have always helped me before and, in an effort to quell the quake, these are the words helping me through today.

Simone de Beauvoir, "The Ethics of Ambiguity": In the face of an obstacle which it is impossible to overcome, stubbornness is stupid.

Margaret Oliphant, "A Little Pilgrim": I, too, am afraid; but it is better to suffer more and to excape than to suffer less and to remain.

Elenaro Roosevelt as quoted in the NY Times on 10/12/54: You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every expereince in which you really stop to look fear in the face.

Gale Wilhelm, "We Too Are Drifting": I'm going to turn on the light and we'll be two people in a room looking at each other wondering why on earth they were afraid of the dark.

These lines are helping me today with what it is I don't know.  As the title of this post suggests, what I know is not something I fear.  But today it is the dark recesses of the unknown that haunt me.  The hallways without light, the empty rooms without lamps, the mornings without sun.  I used to think strength meant never letting people know you were scared or hurting.  Today I know that isn't strength, that's defensiveness, that is real fear: being too afraid to tell the truth. 

So, today I tell the truth.  Today I am afraid...but check with me tomorrow.  The sky may have cleared by then.