“There are two wolves fighting in every man’s heart. One is Love, and the other is Fear. Which one wins? The one you feed the most.” -Unknown
Life has been speaking to me a lot lately about love and fear. I recognize that I have come to a unique place where I see the world through eyes of love. I tend to wonder only how much better it can get, what miracle will happen next, and how I can have more fun. But I have had conversations lately with a variety of those close to me who wonder what could go wrong, and interject their fear and worry to me.
I had visited the Oregon coast recently to go surfing. When I shared my excitement about this upcoming surfing trip with my family, they responded immediately from a place of fear and worry. “But there are sharks on that coastline that eat surfers!” and “How could you possibly afford to take a trip right now?” I must openly share that comments like this do not make me feel supported and I was disappointed that they could not share my excitement. But I do realize that beneath the fear and worry, the core reasoning behind these statements is love. It is my understanding that these people worry because they love me and wish me no harm.
It has made me, in turn, look at how I respond when someone close to me shares something they are trying to accomplish. I have a choice in how I react - from a place of love and support or a place of worry and fear. We all have a choice in every interaction rather we are going to lift people up or bring them down. I am sorry that most people are not aware of that.
So there I was, walking through the soft sand with my kayak headed for an ocean full of possibility. Walking next to me with a long surfboard and paddle was my long time friend and recent joy companion, Tim. As the ocean cooled my toes, I put out an intention of what I would like the experience to be. Silently, I invited whales, dolphins, seals, but nothing else with a dorsal fin, if you know what I mean. I exuded what I wanted to have: fun, magic, play. And life responded with a mirror.
The sea was calm, and the waves were very small. So Tim and I decided to paddle out to sea and explore. Cape Kiwanda loomed in the distance, a giant triangular shaped rock a mile from the shore. The water grew darker as it grew deeper. At the base of the rocky cape, we stopped paddling and looked up in silence, distinguishing the many voices of seabirds nesting in the exposed face. Then something golden shimmered beneath me.
The water was so dark, I was surprised to be able to see anything. There was a moment of pure discovery, as I realized that what I was looking at in the water next to my boat was something completely foreign to me. It seemed to be shape shifting. In that instant, my mind raced to find a category for this new thing, to recognize it, to name it. And my heart was only full of love, so the emotion that arose was pure awe, shifting into joy when the glowing orb surfaced. It was a bright orange jellyfish, very near the color of my hair, and much larger than my head, with crimson red and white tentacles like long strands of ribbon spiraling from a bouquet. It was absolutely lovely and so incredible to me. Here was something that before that instant, did not exist in my world. I had never heard of jellyfish this big, and I thought all jellyfish were white or clear. I was delighted to see two more glowing gold jellyfish surface on the other side of my kayak, between Tim and I. Speechless, all I could do was point. His eyes met mine and we smiled as more than these incredible creatures danced between us.
The entire interaction with the ocean that day was a perfect example of feeding and supporting thoughts of what you want to show up in your world. Specifically poignant because sharks can smell fear. They are drawn to it. If I had identified with my family’s image of shark attacks and come to the ocean with a heart of worry and fear, I may have drawn something to worry about. And yet, because I came to the sea with a heart and mind full of love and magic, the sea reflected just that.
We have a choice, always, through mind diligence to give our attention to the thoughts that feed us or the thoughts that drain us. Like two dogs begging for your attention, you decide which gets the cookie of your attention.
It is not that I live a life without fear. (I still can’t stand spiders.) It is just that lately I have practiced and practiced until I see the world through eyes of love instead. When I see the world this way, I invite more loving connections and more magical experiences into my world because that is what I am expecting to find.
My beloved Yoga instructor says it is like your soul has a cell phone and is receiving calls. Because you have caller I.D. you can see if it is love calling or fear calling, and you can decide if you really want to go there, pick up and have a full conversation, or just ignore the call.
Our minds are full of voices, like those of the wolves. We are what we repeatedly do. Our practiced modes of thinking are those that arise first when we are faced with a new situation, when we are deciding what it will be to us. If we practice thinking of how good things can be, practice being gentle and loving with ourselves and others, those thoughts will surface first. Life again and again gives us those things we didn’t know that we didn’t know. Like jellyfish shimmering in the sea, any new interaction or situation is what we decide it is. Something arriving to kill us, or the most beautiful translucent creature we have met. On some level, we decide.
I return home amazed also to find that this incredible day on the ocean cannot even be shared as a story with many people. I told a friend about the beautiful jellyfish and he was immediately repulsed. “Man, jellyfish scare me to death.” he said, “My friend was stung by one once and was sick for days” Caught in his own fear, he could not hear me when I tried to share my joy with him, and I feel he missed the point of the story. The magic was lost on him, for his fear turned the story of awe into a horror story.
Stories arise in my daily life over and over. I am watching lately how my mind interprets them, trying to be sure I am not loosing the lesson or the beauty in my own fear. And, as all I can control is myself, I try to be what I want in the world and respond to stories of others with a place of compassion, a heart full of love and support.
