Last week I found out a funeral had been canceled. 

Nobody had died.

There wasn’t even a body.

The funeral existed entirely in fear’s imagination.

That fear can fuck you up.

And where does fear come from?

I think fear comes from programming and I think we’re programmed to be controlled. 

What better way to keep people in line?

I mean just fucking think about it.   Create the fear, and then provide the solution to the fear. It’s the perfect  con game and people fall for it all the time without even knowing.

I can give you many examples, but this one I am intimately familiar with.

Cancer….

…

…

…

Tell me what happened to your gut when you heard that word?

It clenched right?

and why is that?

Programming 

And where does that programming come from?

That programming comes from those that will benefit from you being in fear.

“They” control you the minute you’re in fear.

When I got my diagnosis I felt like I’ve been sucker punched…. but almost immediately and just as quick as the punch….I knew that there was something for me to learn from this.

After all, I had been single for at least 10 years at this point and had done life pretty much alone, one more hurdle and not daunting, truthfully. I knew I would have to rely on my family, which is not easy for me to do, but I asked.

I was immediately on the phone to my brother…. to a friend that recommended FECO or RSO… to my natural path Chiropractic doctor’s office, who strongly believed in natural healing as I did.

I knew there was something deeper.

And it’s ALWAYS my nature to dig.

Because of the location of my cancer, way down below the cecal valve, I eventually realized it was where I had buried my guilt, shame, and anger.

I figured if it was hidden in such a remote place, it had to be something I didn’t want ANYONE to know about.

After all, I was in CONTROL.

Or at least I thought I was.

I refused to let fear control my experience.

I had the surgery.

I did two rounds of RSO, so I was pretty much high for six months.

I changed my diet.

And then I started digging.

I wanted to understand why my body had done what it had done.

What was it trying to tell me?

What had I buried so deeply that my body finally demanded I pay attention?

What drove my guilt? 

What drove my shame? 

What drove my anger? 

Fear.

Fear of disappointing people.

Fear of not fitting in.

Fear of failure.

Fear of not being good enough.

Fear.

I received the dreaded diagnosis that sends most to planning a funeral.

Looking back I know it happened for me, not to me.

There was no place left to hide.

If I was going to heal, I had to get honest.

Honest about my fear.

Honest about my anger.

Honest about my guilt. 

Honest about my shame.

Honest about the stories I had been carrying my entire life.

The diagnosis didn’t create those things….it forced me to face them.

Cancer was, obviously, one fear program that I was intimately acquainted with.

But it wasn’t the only one.

I spent 3 months watching someone I cared about spiral over a medical concern.

Two doctors reassured him.

Two.

But fear doesn’t care about facts, statistics or evidence.

I’ve seen the same thing in religion.  People terrified of making a mistake, of asking questions, of disappointing God, of Hell, of being wrong, of looking behind the curtain and thinking for themselves.

Fear is fear and the minute it takes the wheel curiosity disappears….trust disappears and then peace.

Why the fuck don’t we question more?  

Instead we go to worst case scenario because that is what we were/are programmed to do.

Fear starts writing endings for stories that haven’t happened yet.

The older I get, the more I realize that fear isn’t the problem. (And I’m fixin to be even older on the 29th!)

We are all human. We all carry fear. Let’s be conscious of what we do with it.

The real work isn’t eliminating it…it’s making friends with it… It’s recognizing what it’s teaching you And no longer vomiting our fear on each other.

Compassion….For ourselves and others…. 

We are all just Walking One Another Home.