This morning I woke up thinking about the movie Defending Your Life. The premise of this movie is that when a person dies, she goes to Judgment City where scenes from her life are played before a panel of judges. If the judges determine that she (or he) has evolved beyond a fear-based life, she is allowed to move on to the next level (whatever that is). If she is still driven by fear, she must return to Earth for another opportunity to evolve.
This got me wondering what scenes from my own life might reveal. Outwardly I'm committed to being fearless (although I realize that's not really possible; it's not about living without fear so much as not letting fear make the decisions about how one acts). I even have a sticker on my bedroom dresser that says "Not Afraid". But is that how I actually live my life? Am I courageous? How much do I allow fear to limit me?
I have occasionally made daring leaps in my life where I may have looked fearless but really wasn't. For example, dropping out of college and moving to Los Angeles when I was 22 seemed bold, but I have always known that my family is there to catch me if I start to fall, so I wasn't taking much of a chance. A lot of people said I was brave to leave Los Angeles after 26 years and move to Seattle without knowing anyone, or knowing the city, or having much idea of what I would find here. But that move took no bravery because I was moving toward an exciting new possibility, an opportunity to make new choices, to reinvent or rediscover myself. Sweet Hubby and I got married after a long-distance courtship and didn't really know one another much at all. But that also took no courage because somehow I knew that this was going to be a long and happy partnership. I don't know how I knew, but I did, with a certainty that precluded doubt and fear.
And then there are those moments that have fully demonstrated my cowardice. When I was flown to Incheon, South Korea several years ago to see a festival of performances of my short plays, friends suggested that I use the opportunity to rent a car and explore the country, which I was most likely never going to visit again. I absolutely didn't want to do that. The idea of driving alone through a country where I can't speak the language or read the road signs and don't know the rules and laws quite intimidated me. I have girlfriends who have gone camping alone in the wild. That doesn't sound at all enjoyable nor safe to me. I have said 'yes' to a whole lot of stuff I wanted to say 'no' to because I was afraid someone would think less of me. Looking at these scenes, I see myself as terribly fearful.
So when have I ever been truly brave enough not to let fear stop me? In this moment, the only time I can think of was shortly after I moved to Seattle, which was just before the war in Iraq was declared. I went to a resistance training to prepare for a protest event at city hall, and volunteered to be one of the people to take a position that could possibly lead to arrest. I wasn't arrested, but I didn't know I wouldn't be when I volunteered. So that's one time, one moment when I can claim fear didn't stop me.
I suppose, like most people, I'm a mix of courage and cowardice. But thinking about all this has got me thinking that I need to be more aware of those times when I have a chance to choose between the safe action and the bold action, even in those small moments that don't seem to matter much, such as saying 'no' when 'no' is my answer. I'm going to have to think about this some more.
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