My vice and vision, a version of verisimilitude...only because when I write I'm in that funky kind of mood

Monday, October 18, 2010

Fear

Fear is frightening: That is what we call a tautology.


To even begin to write and discuss fear is daunting.


I resort to rankings and simple checklists like:


1. Flying: no fear
2. Public Speaking: no fear
3. Heights: scared but only sometimes
4. Clumsily falling in front of a crowd of academics: scared to death
5. Losing someone I love: terrifying


But these kinds of easy checklists do not lend themselves to depth, clarity or enlightenment. They smack of the muddled interior feeling that tries to understand fear at a moment when I am unafraid, when my adrenalin is not kicked into high gear, and I am so peaceful it is kind of scary (I can hear you asking me now if I am feeling okay, don't worry, I'm just not high strung at the current moment).


Writing is a tool for understanding fear, but it evokes apprehension at the thought of what might skitter out from the deep recesses of truth that writing provides a medium for expressing.  A young writer friend of mine told me that it is dangerous for young men like himself to write fiction. At that time, I was unclear on what he meant and mainly wrote it off as inebriated nonsense. But now I have returned to writing, and I understand his logic. 

Although I have never officially put down the pen, I suppressed my own voice behind the mask of overly-educated jargon that no one understands except for the ten other people on the planet who care about the same narrow slice of the academic pie.


Thus, this brings me back to fear (I know you were thinking that I am digressing with my metaphoric discussion of baked goods, don't worry, it's all part of my plan).
I think I have internalized academic conventions to the point that writing my own voice is frightening. The little Jiminy Cricket inside of my head wonders what I will say, what people will think about what I said, and fears that people will not accept what I have to say. But then, I realize that this anticipation is part of the academic game, and not the I-write-what-I-want-on-MY-blog genre of writing.


Because I seriously lack conclusions here, I will just add music: Fearless by Pink Floyd


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