Fear
in Solitude
There
are different degrees and intensities of solitude. Ideally, in
solitude we take leave of all human interaction and come face to face
with our self. The guardian of self is fear. Contrary to most
people's view, meeting fear is a very good sign; it shows that self
is on the defensive and starting to 'reveal its colours'. It is
important, however, to recognize the different forms of fear. Three
of the main ones are instinctive fear, ego fear and imagined fear,
which are often intertwined.
Instinctive
fear is the deeply programmed survival response to any threat. One
day on my morning trek down the mountain, at a particularly dark and
enclosed place, my beaming headlamp picked up a large white object in
the distance. I froze in my steps as a sudden burst of fear arose:
'What is that?'. With senses on high alert my mind quickly began
going through its memory programmes and came to the conclusion that
since it was not moving or making any sound, it must be the lighter
underside of a rock overhang which had not been blackened by exposure
to sun and rain. As I came up closer my conclusion was re-assuringly
confirmed -- it wasn't an early-morning hunter waiting in ambush or a
sleeping unicorn.
Imagined
fear is the fear we create through our own imagination, usually with
only a minimum of sensory information. We hear an unusual sound and
the mind spins off, imagining a whole range of terrible
possibilities. During one prolonged heavy downpour I heard the
normally dry stream bed next to my hut becoming increasingly filled
with surging rain water. As I lay in my grass-roofed, bamboo-walled
hut, I began to imagine it being swept off its foundations and
floated down the slope. I could observe the fear which these thoughts
were generating, and then turned attention back to the sound again. I
noticed that even though the sound was unusually loud, it was not
increasing in intensity. Thus even at the height of the deluge the
flood waters were not increasing, and my fantasies were not likely to
be fulfilled. When we realize that this fear is created by our own
imaginative thoughts and not verified by sensory data, we can stop
feeding them and the fear quickly subsides. Sometimes, however,
imagined fear becomes a strong mental habit, with ego fear overtones.
Through recognizing the cause-effect relationship involved, and with
some degree of patience and re-training, we can break free of this
habit.
Ego
fear is not so easy to distinguish, as it comes in various forms. It
is the pre-eminent defence of the ego/self against any threat to
exposure, either as a direct warning of danger or as a means of
deflecting attention. Who wants to go anywhere near fear? Lurking in
the shadows there is the fear which is embedded in certain memories,
especially from early childhood, which keep leaking out into
consciousness. There is always the underlying existential fear of
annihilation, the fear of dying, of sickness, of going mad, etc.
There is the fear of any new situation, which is a combination of
anxiety at facing the unknown and fear of losing control. Beneath the
surface of comfortable habit there is the fear of the unknown. When I
first moved into the cave up the mountain, I had to face quite a few
fears because there were so many unknowns. What if I had an accident?
What if I lost my way? Did snakes live in the cave? Some of these
were closer to imagined fears than ego fears, except for the fear of
failure to follow my idealistic plan and having to retreat to a
comfortable hut near the kitchen! However, as I became familiar with
the environment and made a few adjustments (carrying a mobile phone,
placing a few extra path-markers, reading the snake book, developing
an increased level of vigilance) these fears began to dissipate.
One
of the most difficult forms of fear is irrational fear, since it is
hard to know its source. Basically, if fear is not an instinctive
reaction, if it is not a product of imagination, then it is a form of
ego fear. This could be a response to a deep trauma of which we are
as yet unconscious, or a distraction attempt by the ego to keep us
deflected from seeing the truth of non-self. I noticed many times a
fear arising when the mind reached subtle levels of calm – what
might it discover?
The
key element here,
I would say, is awareness of the unknown or reaching the limit of
knowing. This is where the ego/self is most insecure and vulnerable.
Since everything is ultimately in constant change, most of reality is
the unknown, where ego/self has no real control. And once mindfulness
has gained strength, ego/self-reference becomes obsolete, even an
obstacle to presence of being.
One
morning as I climbed up to the plateau I met some fog,had to readjust
the angle of my headlamp so that it shone more upwards than directly
down on the path. The effect was quite dramatic, as the lamp now
revealed more of the scenery along the sides of the path, rather than
just the ground before my feet. The bushes which had previously
appeared as fleeting shadows now lurched out of the darkness, and
since there had been recent rain, the leaves glistened and rain
droplets twinkled in the passing lamp light.
In
this state of newly-lightened wonderment I also had some brief
moments when I failed to recognize the path. Since I was walking, it
was as if I had literally 'stepped into a new dimension'. My mind was
alert, but 'empty'. For a full two seconds there was no fear, no
story lines, just 'being present' without any self-reference. Then
memory clicked in, I recognized where I was and the self-story began
rolling again.
If
our mind is settled enough, it is possible to observe fear more
objectively and distinguish what kind of fear it is. Facing up to ego
fear can take us right to the edge of self: What is self afraid of?
What is that fear covering up? Ego/self is afraid of being found out
to be ultimately just a clever illusion held in place by grasping.
Reacting to fear is a grasping response. Seeing this we let go, and
all is well.