In a previous writing i shared that i have myself been intimately acquainted with fear’s paralyzing grip. It was my constant companion for many, many years, rendering me its captive in what American psychologist Martin Seligman termed ‘learned helplessness.’
i would like to glimpse further into this theme through the lens of a passage from the exquisitely poetic 1997 book; ‘Anam Cara – Spiritual Wisdom From The Celtic World’ by Irish philosopher, poet and author, John O’Donoghue.
As a side note, it was some forty years ago at this time in 1986 that the receipt of a most fortuitous telephone call interrupted my urban existence in Dublin. A cherished friend extended an invitation to relocate to the wild, unspoiled coast of County Clare. Without any hesitation, I embraced this call to adventure, surrendering myself to a life by the sea that would prove both profoundly joyous and creatively abundant.
It was this same County Clare where John O’Donoghue himself grew up and lived rendering me closely acquainted with the wondrous and exemplary landscape that he so eloquently writes and speaks about.
The following passage can be found in Chapter 6 ‘Death: the horizon is in the well,’ page 243:
“The best story i know about the presence of fear is an old story from India about a man condemned to spend the night in a cell with a poisonous snake. If he made the slightest movement, the snake would kill him.
All night the man stood petrified in the corner of the cell, afraid even to breathe for fear of alerting the snake in the other corner. As the first light of dawn reached into the cell, he could make out the shape of the snake in the other corner.
He was deeply relieved not to have alerted it, Then, as the light of dawn increased further and it became really bright, he saw that it was not a snake but an old rope lying in the corner of the cell.
The moral of the story suggests that if there are harmless things, like that old rope, lying around in many of the rooms of our minds, then our anxiousness works on them until we convert them into monsters which hold us imprisoned and petrified in small rooms in our lives.”
Isn’t it so very true? i can assure you that I have trodden this path myself—truly. The grip of terror’s illusion renders one its thrall, stripping consciousness bare and rational thought asunder. This struggle is an abyss unto itself, a realm where light flees and only the echo of dread remains.
Beware then, the shadows cast by fear’s duplicity. For in their depths, one may become ensnared—a prisoner of the mind with solace far out of reach. Stay ever vigilant; the snake that binds you is often but a rope, uncoiling its power only when perception fails.