I was recently asked, by Felicity Warner, the “Birth Mother” of the Soul Midwives organization in Dorset; “What color is fear?” After much thought and consideration, I settled on a grey/green/brown color with a wet, slippery, yet sticky texture.
All I could think of was the sight and feel of seaweed and the way it sticks to your legs and feet when you walk through it. It often has this thick, rubbery look to it and is found in big piles that remind me of large pieces of yucky lasagne, all twisted together.
I imagine fear as an enormous mound of this vile, smelly, gummy stuff, that somehow takes hold of me. It slowly starts to pull me further and further downwards. The more I fight, the more tangled I become; sinking deeper into it and farther away from the sun, the sand and the shoreline.
I’m thinking, the trick just might be to stop fighting.
To stop tossing, turning and squirming and just go completely and utterly limp. Perhaps relaxing my body, mind and spirit; breathing slowly and submitting to the sensation, would allow me to catch my breath,think more clearly, get untangled and just maybe catch a glimpse of the sun, which would tell me which way was up. Being a child of light, I would then just slowly and naturally wiggle and gravitate upwards towards the sun. I may have had a eureka moment!
Am I fearful of this journey? Yes.
Will I let it consume me? Not today!