no one is afraid…

No one is afraid of heights; they are afraid to fall.
No one is afraid to play, they are afraid to lose.
No one is afraid of the dark, they are afraid of what’s in it.
No one is afraid to say I love you, they are afraid of the response.

– Anonymous –

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10 Responses to “no one is afraid…”

  1. Beatnik du Jour March 26, 2013 at 11:12 am #

    So true. You may know the last one for me is the most difficult.

    • secretthots March 26, 2013 at 11:57 pm #

      Oh, my but I don’t think you are not alone in this… difficulty.

      The other difficulty of course, is to find someone who isn’t afraid to respond. In any event, to offer or respond seems to require a risk-worthy amount of honesty, transparency, grace, consistency and courage… vulnerability at it’s most terrifying best.


      • Beatnik du Jour March 27, 2013 at 12:09 am #

        True. How many cases consist of one party afraid of the response and the other afraid to respond, even when the truth is that both parties feel the same. The first hasn’t the courage and the second lacks the honesty, if to no one else but themselves. Terrifying vulnerability indeed!

        • secretthots March 27, 2013 at 12:15 am #

          …too many cases to count, I’m sure.

          And to recognize what is keeping us from courage and honesty – within ourselves or within the one(s) we most desire – is a whole other story – and one not many are willing to tell… or so I am learning.

          • Beatnik du Jour March 27, 2013 at 12:24 am #

            Being able to recognize the issue could imply that we’ve learned a lesson somewhere – gone down that road before. Perhaps it’s an old wound? Or a fresh wound that still bleeds… Perhaps they just don’t know what it is, everything at some point is in the dark. What lies within it?

            • secretthots March 27, 2013 at 1:47 am #

              I think wounds are there for some reason, for sure. Lately, I’m wondering if they exist to help us connect the dots until a picture appears – like the dot-to-dots of my youth. When we recognize the picture that forms and can accept what we see, it can tell us who we were, or maybe are still… and maybe even help us choose who we will be from this day forward.

              I agree about the dark… and not knowing. My problem? I can’t help but look for the lightswitch.

  2. NormalDeviations March 27, 2013 at 12:33 am #

    There is another aspect to this as well. People – I believe – are afraid of the expectation of saying it or returning it. Enough time and life experiences molding someone to that conditioning can have a huge impact.

    I’m odd; my personality type (and type of person, I guess) rarely say it without encouragement. When we do say it, it’s total conviction and intent. Once I’ve reached that point of feeling towards someone, I will say it often.

    To my regret, it seems that at times I’ve said it too often to a person.

    • secretthots March 27, 2013 at 12:42 am #

      I don’t see that as odd, just the way you are. Like you, I am prone to being wholly convicted when my love and loyalty is finally given. Over the past almost 3 years, I’ve been challenging myself to shift from being extremely slow to trust to being in a conscious practice of staying open – to a few people in particular. To be honest, I’m not sure it’s worked out so well for me.

      Which is why I wish I could say otherwise but alas, I share the same regret, Dave…

      • NormalDeviations March 27, 2013 at 12:53 am #

        What parallels. File the serial numbers off and your words there are mine.

        I’m seeing this often; I can tell you are too. 😐

        (call that a half smile and a half look of understanding, eh?)

        • secretthots March 27, 2013 at 1:02 am #

          I see your empathy… and raise you a poem:

          But We Are All the Scattered Matter of Dead Stars, My Dear
          by Mathias Svalina

          This is a biography of your lungs
          & their wet battle against oxygen

          how they root through your chest like vines among
          the hackberry. Built of birds nests, thin

          tangles of copper wiring: better off
          in your skete, better before Aristotle

          said man is a political animal.
          Better built from burnt ashes of

          titans who ate Dionysius. And yes,
          of course: the oceans wait to fill your lungs

          with eels. Statistically you & I are the person.
          And my lungs [baleening/sluicing] the air.

          Orpheus said the wind won’t blow all day
          & storms eventually tire of their rage,

          which reminded me of that band Angel Hair
          who sang “No one has the clap forever.”

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