fear is a driving force which causes you to leap before you’re ready and fall into the chasm you were trying to, carefully, bridge. fear isn’t faith or trust or, most importantly, love. fear is a stake they drive through your heart so you may not feel your way into answers anymore, so you may act based on instinct, based on survival instinct and run from the lion in the woods into an open field where the cross-hairs of a cold, cruel rifle that hunts for sport wait. at least the lion throbs with life, kills for food, for his own basic survival.
fear does not like roses. fear cannot enjoy their beauty in sight or smell or touch or taste. fear has no time for roses.
fear is people telling you “time is of the essence” and they may as well be standing behind you chanting “jump jump jump jump jump jump jump jump” while you’re on the edge of a cliff and don’t know how to swim which, here, is an irrelevant skill, really, because what lies at the bottom is not water but rocks and you don’t want to jump you want to climb down the cliff and that, too, is not without danger but, at least, death isn’t certain. at least you can feel your way down the side.
they want you to jump. they want to stop chanting. they want to go home.
roses, instead, are love.