Will the last person to leave the church please turn out the lights.
Fear. False Evidence Appearing Real. The runaway mind is both tremendously insecure and wildly inventive. It’s like the man who enters a dark room, steps on a coil of rope and immediately assumes he’s standing on a snake. The home of fear is the head. Fear seeks to legitimize itself in partialized truth, in truthiness, in something that could be true, might be true. But the truth is never partial. And fear is always a lie.
If a counsellor has a goal, then it is likely this—to save his client some time. Buffaloes charge straight into stormy weather. Their experience of wind and rain is briefer that way.
We enter the woods because nothing in the natural world has a strategy.
Fear’s most ardent suitor is guilt. Where fear is, guilt shakes its hips.