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I flew.

© T.Nikic, 2017.

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A PERSPECTIVE ON FEAR

    FUNK 2 THE RIGHT | T.Nikic 2016 | Oils on canvas.

By T. Nikic

It is not something you’re born with, but something you learn. And you do not learn it because you need to learn it or because you learn it from a happy situation. Often times, fear is laced within a scar that is hidden. People hide their scars when they think it makes them less attractive or less beautiful. It’s the same thing with fear. People internalize their fears and don’t talk about them because they think it makes them less attractive or less beautiful.

 

Some people are aware of their fears and have made a lifelong commitment to facing them. Others have allowed their fears to guide them in life. Never risking too much, playing it ‘safe’. Only going so far within relationships and with people whom they meet. But those who have made a commitment to facing their fears often don’t realize that they have a fear until someone, whom they do not know very well, triggers it.

 

Triggers of fear can be very random, overwhelming and surprising. How one addresses and deals with these triggers is a choice. But because people who have made a commitment to face their fears in life have often internalized their battle, they only really know how to go within themselves and try to deal with it internally. Alone. It’s not that they do not want to connect with others, but they feel shame and remorse that that fear exists, and feel that they will no longer be attractive to another if they see it.

 

The thing of it is, fear can sometimes be like a gust of wind, bringing with it everything great and everything not so great that was surrounding you and the person who triggered the fear. It could be the most beautiful connection, your ideal in fact, and you want to enter that space with the other person, but fear is just blowing this strong current at you, creating a small tornado-like storm around your being. You have no clue on how to stop it or calm it down enough to maintain the connection with the other person.

 

In many ways, you feel crippled. Stunned. You think to yourself, “I just met the most incredible person. Someone I’ve been hoping to meet. And here they are, ready and willing to explore this connection with me, but I’m so scared.” My fear questions everything, “Is this real? Are they real? You’ve not been here before; you think you can actually do this? They will see you’re scarred and then they will walk away, don’t you forget that.”

 

You do not want to push people away, but because you allow your fear to take you into your Self, you aren’t able to nurture the connection you discovered with the other person. And they do not know you well enough to know if you’re still there and interested, or if you’re pulling away. They do not have a good reason to stand the fear storm with you, because you haven’t given them enough to go on.

 

As you’re trying to sort through your fear, your surroundings become foggy and you can no longer maintain eye contact with them. You want to ask them to be patient with you, to wait for you, and maybe even hold your hand, but you think that that’s way too much to ask from someone you don’t know very well. You feel them slowly pulling away. Shutting down. Shutting you out. You hate seeing the change in the energy between the two of you, but the fear has gotten really strong at this point. It has exhausted you and you’re falling. A thick fog has formed around you and you have no way of seeing past it. There is nothing for you to do except to try to minimize the pain of the fall by curling up into yourself, completely looking away from the person you wanted to let in.

 

After some time, you wake up and realize that you’ve managed to survive and exhaust your fear. Sure, the fear storm has scattered all the shame and remorse on the ground surrounding you, but you do not reach for them. The scar your fear was interlaced with is completely exposed, but that doesn’t make you feel less beautiful anymore. You realize that the fog has cleared. It’s not sunny but it’s calm. You look around, trying to locate the footprints of the person you wanted to let in, but the fear storm was so strong that it has erased them. You start to panic and begin thinking of how to get ahold of them, how to reach them. You have no signal on your phone. There is an old payphone but the cord has been cut. You try walking down this path and that path, but they’re all dead ends.

 

You make your way back to the space you first met them, the road of brave souls, and you sit there, alone, with the hope that they might come back for you and give you another chance. You’re there for only a short while, because you realize that it’s not about going back, but moving forward. If you cross paths again, you’ll have to show your scars and tell them those stories. Otherwise that fear you broke free of, will win. And fear will always win…. if you let it.


between the notes

Photo © T.Nikic, 2013.

1

silence

noun si·lence \ˈsī-lən(t)s\
  1. 1:  forbearance from speech or noise :  muteness —often used interjectionally

  2. 2:  absence of sound or noise :  stillness in the silence of the night

  3. 3:  absence of mention: a :  oblivion, obscurity b :  secrecy weapons research was conducted in silence

(SOURCE)

*********

Sometimes it’s the silence between the notes

Which makes the song.

The pause, which allows the note before

And the note after it

To be heard and understood.

We write songs in our daily lives

Often without knowing it.

We pause before replying,

We walk away,

We breathe.

It’s what determines the song’s melody.

If I had to tell you

What my last song was about

I’d say it was about fears

And that it’s important we face them.

It’s about wounds and scars,

Covered up and bound with

Band-Aids and bandages

Which, at some point,

Need to be ripped off.

It’s about being present,

In the moment,

Without definition, expectation or direction,

Where one exists as they are.

It’s about staying in the moment

And trusting that that space will evolve,

Grow,

Change,

Grant life, beauty.

It’s about meeting another’s gaze,

Without looking away,

Not being scared of that sacred space.

It’s about SOULfood

Where freedom exists

And there are no limits

Placed on humanity

Or creativity

Or BEing.

When one song ends,

The silence before the first note of the next

Will surely be of influence.

And when the new song starts

Listen carefully,

Because it just might be the song

Which becomes the oyster shell

For your heart.


The Dream Effect

Poetry, like dreams, stem from some truth –

a feeling, a thought, a perspective, an experience.

I cannot tell if my dream stemmed from a poem, 

or if this poem stemmed from a dream.

But it bloomed…and I hope your being

blooms, too.

Love, T

*****

 

 

I had the most beautiful dream

the other night.

It was a dream that stemmed from,

and exuberated, LOVE.

And I mean LOVE.

Pure and true.

And real! So very real!

 

The love of my life

was in my dream

and he was happy.

I mean HAPPY.

His smile, warm and contagious,

lighting up his face in a way

I always wanted to remember him by.

He was healthy too.

Healthy and happy.

Is there a better combination of state,

to have one BE,

in life?

I don’t know if there is

anything much better than that.

Truly.

It was a sight to see…

He was the way you would wish

someone you love

TO BE, but really,

to feel.

He was always beautiful,

to me,

but in this dream,

he was shinning.

Bright.

It felt amazing

to see him in that

light.

 

And it wasn’t just he

who was in my dream,

although he stood out

from the rest.

It was a home,

full of happy people.

My home.

My family.

 

Exhilarating.

It was an exhilarating dream.

It lifted me to a high that spilled

over into my

reality.

Not because it gave me hope

that my love and I will

BE,

one day.

But because my love

was healthy and happy.

I couldn’t wish him

anything other than

health and happiness…

 

I hope my dream

turns into his reality,

into YOUR reality,

into YOUR love’s reality…

health and happiness,

from my dream,

to your being.

 

 

Live.

Love.

Learn.

Grow.

Let go.

 

 

Fly.

 

Photo © T.Nikic 2014

Photo and edit © T.Nikic 2014


I AM Here!

I am here. Breathing. Seeing. Hearing. Feeling. Observing. Feeling. Reflecting. Feeling. I am here.

I wasn’t planned by my parents so in a way, you could say that I was a ‘mistake’. But they choose to give me the greatest gift – LIFE. I breathe. I am here.

I open my eyes and watch the rise of the sun while the moon sets and I think, “Look at that! I live to see another day!”. It is amazing because I am here to see it. I am here.

I close my eyes and I hear life. It’s happening all around me. The trees sway their branches while housing the birds who chirp and sing the most beautiful morning song. I listen. The mindful trees and birds are embracing me in their circle and making me feel their vocal hug. I am here.

Inside of me, my heart is beating and as I close my eyes, I observe its position. Quickly, I realize that it’s never alone for it’s surrounded by layers of protection which form almost a tunnel that allows the echo of its beat to be felt. I feel its strengths and high points but as I observe more carefully I hear its pains, fears, regrets and disappointments. But I feel it. I am here.

I open my eyes and look up at the ceiling and I reflect on its imperfections. I don’t need a mirror for the ceiling is reflecting back all of what I break myself down to be – imperfect. There are so many imperfections that the more time I spend reflecting the more they all blend into one amazing roof over my head which has come to me at the cost of experience. I feel as if it’s a lot to deal with but the sun is shining bright, the birds are still chirping, my heart is still beating and I am reminded…..I am here.

I could stop there, couldn’t I? For I breathe, I see, I hear, I observe and above all, I feel all….but am I really feeling all? I sit up and put a hand over my chest. Somewhere deep inside, there is a voice of light. It’s warm and comforting. It’s a slew of colours, sounds and shapes. I can’t quite decide which way to look at it or feel it for it comes to me when I’m at my lowest of lows. It has no limits and it is as intense and free as I need it to be. Am I controlling it or is it controlling me? I close my eyes and that is when I realize. Its name is love. I smile and allow my hand to fall by my side. My eyelids open and I realize that that is what I am here for – love! Love for me and for all that I do. Love for life, breath, sight, hearing, and love for all things which bring me back to me and remind me that I truly AM here.

“We can always choose to perceive things differently.You can focus on what’s wrong in your life, or you can focus on what’s right.” ~ Marianne Williamson

T


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