Transforming Fear into Love

For me, 2020 was a year to remember again and again why staying in the present moment is such a vital practice. It’s not something we do only when we think life is going swell — it is most needed, protective and transformative in difficult, tumultuous times. 

The most influential mindfulness teachers of our times did not cultivate their ability to stay present and nourish joy by leading lives of ease. Thich Nhat Hanh and the Dalai Lama experienced wars that ravaged their countries and took the lives of many of their dear ones, and were forced to live in exile from their homelands for most of their lives. Eckhart Tolle, author of The Power of Now, came to his awakening while in the midst of a deep despair that took him to the verge of suicide and homelessness. Living in the present moment is not a luxury we practice when all is well. It is the way we stay above water — and can actually awaken wisdom and compassion within us — in the face of uncertainty and calamity.

So many people have been feeling heightened levels of anxiety this past year — due to a global pandemic, increasing inequalities and injustice, climate change, economic and political uncertainty, feeling isolated and missing loved ones, feeling overwhelmed by increased demands and fewer resources… the list goes on and on. There have certainly been many moments when I have felt a sense of impending doom or been in a fugue-like state of unreality myself. 

In those moments, what gets me through is coming back to what is right in front of me, in the present moment. That may be coming back to the warm beverage in my hands, the plate of food in front of me, the warmth of my home when it’s cold outside. Looking at the lights that I’ve placed on my mantle at home, or gazing at the tree, the sky, the bird, when I’m taking a walk. All of these help me remember that right in this very moment, all is well. 

When we’re fully inhabiting the moment, we are not judging it. Judgment actually takes us out of the moment, and is usually not about what’s right in front of us, but ideas and concepts we have about it. If we are feeling sad or lonely or anxious, we allow that to be there too. Our mindfulness of the present moment can help us to hold the difficult feelings that are there, like a small child we hold hands with as we walk. When we no longer judge how things are supposed to be, we can open fully to the miracles that are actually here with us, right now. 

Our fears are usually a fantasy, something in the future that hasn’t actually happened. Returning to what’s right in front of us aligns us with what’s real and true. It also calms our nervous systems; and when we feel more calm, safety and spaciousness, we have much more capacity. Being present doesn’t mean we don’t act or plan for the future. It means we don’t act or plan from our fight/flight/freeze system, but from a much more resourced place. We can be more clear about when is the right time to plan, and when is the right time to be still.

I’ll share one example of returning to the present moment when fear or anxiety arises. Mortality of our loved ones has been on many peoples’ minds this year, and I’m no stranger to this. In general, when I love someone or something, my mind can tend to worry about losing them. 

Remembering the impermanence of all things  is one of the most important tenets of Buddhist practice. Instead of leading us into despair, embracing this most fundamental reality can help us live a more beautiful and engaged life.

There are so many moments this year that I have looked at my beloved and felt a pang of fear about if, when, something could happen to her or I might lose her.  In those moments, my practice is to remember how precious she is, how precious this moment together is — it opens my heart and makes my feelings of love, gratitude, and connection vast and profound. We can often take our loved ones for granted, but fully inhabiting the present moment when we’re together, remembering impermanence (which is the fundamental fact of life), can enrich our experience, our lives. A tenderness may emerge as we inhabit our lives with more presence and awareness, as we include all of life - the joy, the beauty, and the sorrow.

I wish all of us more presence, open-heartedness, and wisdom about the nature of our Interbeing, in the year ahead.