MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “fear”

Emotions in action

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Don’t believe those who tell you they love you. Believe those who show you they do.

Because as cliché as it is, actions do speak louder than words. And we are fallible creatures, who need proof.

We need to feel loved and cared for. That we have the attention we seek and the respect and acknowledgement we strive for.

But we need to see it too, to believe it.

Otherwise, we feed our insecurities. We begin to doubt everything and everyone, even ourselves. And that is where the trouble begins.

Because insecurities deprive us of joy, as they become tension, irritation and anger. And the latter is simply an externalisation of the fear that we are not loved enough.

Leading to the vicious circle binding care with the actions to prove it.

If you don’t state what you want, you may never receive it. It’s sort of the same thing. If you don’t show what you feel, you may not have it reciprocated. And in the end, you’re the one at loss.

The box office event

©Ted Strutz

She had been waiting for the show for weeks. It set a box office record wherever it performed. She had told him and he had excitedly agreed to go. After all, he couldn’t refuse something that got her so happy that she couldn’t stop blabbing while bouncing around happily.

A few days earlier, she awoke by a nightmare. He consoled her, wrapping her in his arms until she fell back asleep.

But then, a peculiar thing happened. Her fear had diffused into him. Unjustifiably and inexplicably.

It was when they were already seated that it happened. And it was life-changing.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Fear of the unknown

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“Come on, let’s go!” His voice was anxious, masking the excitement and enthusiasm of a well-kept secret only he knew.

She was reserved, almost scared. Where were they going? Why? What would be there? How would they go? How long would it take? Her mind was a whirlwind of questions. She probably appeared dazed too, perhaps betraying her confusion to the outsider. So much, that it prompted him to reassure her. “It’ll be fine. Don’t be so afraid. It’s going to be fun!”

He took her hand and led her to the car. He smiled at her, his eyes glowing. She smiled back nervously. “Sometimes you don’t need to have all the answers,” he said.

When the car stopped, he turned towards her. She was gazing outside trying to figure out where they were. “Close your eyes”, he said. She was almost shocked. “Come on, close your eyes. You’ll ruin the surprise otherwise. Don’t you trust me?” It was a cheap card to play – the trust issue – but he knew she would cave to it. “No peeking either!”

She gripped his arm as he led her out of the car and up a grassy hill. The fresh air penetrated her nostrils and filled her lungs with oxygen. It helped her get her mind off the fact that her heart was pumping mad with anguish about this unknown event.

We’re here,” he said. She timidly opened her eyes.

In the middle of a picture-perfect scene – green valley, tall trees in bloom, colourful flowers, peace and quiet – there lay a picnic feast waiting for them.

She laughed wholeheartedly and jumped in his arms.

“Sometimes not knowing too much is the best way to keep calm,” he winked.

Altering an unreal vision

http://www.weatherbook.com/images/6_14_04_web.jpgIt was one of those mornings when it was neither hot nor cold; it was just cloudy and dull. Like her mood that day. The humid heat made it all somewhat insufferable, even stifling.

Zoe woke up nervous. It was the type of agitation that appeared after not being able to sleep well all night, with too many thoughts swivelling through her mind and a temper she couldn’t really explain.

She had dreamt that her big dance performance had arrived, the one that would make or break her career; the one that would get her into the professional dance school she had her heart set on since she was a child. But just as she was about to make that finally leap, sure to astonish everyone, her ankle turned and she had to conclude the show with grinding teeth and a pain that left her in stitches. It was almost impossible not to reveal how much it hurt.

Zoe woke in the middle of the night in sweat and an inexplicable pain in her stomach. It all felt so real. The passion, the agony, the anguish, the sting, the heartbreak, the utter discomfort of it all.

She took hold of her years-old teddy bear and, with the naivety of a child, tried to go back to sleep. But it was no longer possible.

Dawn came but the emotions had remained. How do you alter a nightmare?

She spent all day watching movies on her couch. It was an effort to change her mood. But that didn’t work either. It only happened when he came along. When Ted rang the doorbell and greeted her with a smile, a rose, a cookie and – what she needed most – a warm, tight hug.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Astonish

A shining star in a dim sky

https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GV1XqVMta2c/V9OWt2dc12I/AAAAAAAAE2k/FynYSq2JkNMytbviNilB41CD2JSBpt7JgCLcB/s1600/shining-star.jpgThere is a story an elderly monk used to tell his young novices:

“There was a star born one night in the darkness. Its light was dim and it could hardly be seen in the night sky. No-one really even knew it was there. It existed unnoticed. The star was upset and disappointed. It felt invisible. But as time passed it was growing in size. Disheartened as it was with life, its shine was still absent. A dim star is one that hardly exists. Other stars gathered beside it, bigger or smaller, they were certainly brighter. The star – that was no longer little – became even more upset. It was discouraged by the competition. One night it heard a little girl point to the sky and shout in amazement “look at all the bright lights!”. The star felt for the first time noticed. And for this,  it wanted to make its presence even more prominent. So it tried with all its heart to shine the brightest. And suddenly the entire sky lit up. The sky was hiding its glow within it; over the years it had gathered so much light but failed to find a way to transmit it. Or rather, a reason to do so. It’s difficult to be a shining star in a dim sky. But you should never allow the fear of glowing too brightly from dimming the shine you have within you. And knowing that you’re bright all alone. No need to be compared with anyone else.”

Also part of Daily Prompt: Dim

Something to hide

gondola08She was tired. In fact, she was exhausted. But he refused to acknowledge it. He failed to see how she strived to make her daily routine seem so effortless, while she was camouflaging the pain in the smile she always wore.

He worked hard. And she worked even harder. She tried to support him as much as she could, without asking for anything in return, other than a simply gesture of appreciation, a humble ‘thank you’, a hug and a kiss.

She was sick. But he failed to see it.

Not even when her light was dimming, could he see that he was losing her. She didn’t speak out, of fear that she would upset him too much and that he would overreact, as he usually did when trying to gain control of a situation.

Instead, she allowed herself to wither in the silence of her progressive departure. He was too fixated on his own beliefs to see that something was wrong. And it was only when she left that he realised what had happened. That fateful morning when she was no longer there. When the sky darkened and clouds brought on a tremendous storm.

But it was too late. He had allowed her to drown in her own secret, alone, because she loved him too much to make him worry.

She left with a photo of their last trip together hovering over their bed as an eternal memory.

The Object

Wooden boxThe voice echoed in the room magnifying the emptiness of the space. He could hear the metal in his boots dominating the wooden floor. It made him feel so small, lost in that vast space.

He was captivated by a person whose face he could not see. All he saw was two round black circles where his eyes would be. He knew it was a man because his robust figure betrayed his gender and the sound of his voice was deeper and coarser than any he had ever heard.

The footsteps and the slamming of an apparently very heavy door betrayed that his captivator had left.

Silence fell over the room. Together with the darkness that already lay there, the atmosphere was creepy to say the least.

He could feel his feet chained to the ground and his hands were loosely tied, enough to make things difficult for him.

His eyes begun to become accustomed to the darkness and he saw that the knot that had him bound down could be easily untied with a few tugging moves. But not having your feet free to move around made escaping a bit more tricky.

He looked around, trying to remain ahead of the panic that was rapidly overwhelming him.

There was an object right in front of him. It was within an arm’s reach. A black rectangular box.

He got up and stretched as far as he could, grabbing it tight.

There were markings on it. Faded letters. If you stared hard enough and looked back, they together formed the word “key”.

He had to get the box opened immediately before that voice returned. He banged it with the chains on his legs. But it was useless. A code was required to break open the lock. He looked around. On each of the four walls in the room was a number counting down from “5”. He tried “5,4,3,2”, but the lock did not open. It resisted any other such combination too. He then began randomly placing numbers in the lock, hoping something would click.

It did when the code formed “1,1,1,1”.

Was it that easy?

The box had a key inside. Which opened the chains on his legs. And then the door.

It was too easy.

It was.

Because when he opened the door the voice returned, louder than ever sprouting from a black mask and holding a chainsaw in front of his black eyeholes.

That’s when everything completely blacked out.

And that is when he finally awoke from the coma he was in for three weeks.

He remembered nothing.

Apart from the box with the key.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Object

The Archer

https://lh5.ggpht.com/l9mykkNXAk5GQA2yRa3ml5CrenDBghDsjINP5cjEvy0WuPFIb4oJ7ZB1w9MLURSBp-hk=w300The bowstring tore his cheek as the arrow flung to hit the hanging branch. He was trying to outrun the voices behind him, and every few paces he would turn and try to find deterrents to block their way. It was already getting dark and it was easier now to get lost in the woods. That served to his advantage. No-one knew the forest as well as he did. It was his home.

They called him The Archer. All they really knew about him was that whatever he stole, he would replace with something else. So, for example, if he stole a loaf of bread the one day, the next he would repay with a couple of fresh apples. He didn’t want to be considered a thief after all. And he always signed his name with a capital “A”.

But no-one had ever seen him. Despite the fact that he moved among them daily.

His mother was an Amazon, tamed by a Lord. Their marriage was a demonstration of how powerful love could be. But also of how profound. For when she got sick, he drunk his fortune away, and with it his son’s future. The boy was soon orphaned and left to fight for his own survival. All he knew how to do was use a bow better than anyone. He was very young when he was forced to discover the world, and the people of the village looked upon him with a mix of pity and fear. They would give him chores and various errands to run if they had any, but the pay was minimum, if at all, and the boy could not survive on that alone.

No-one seemed to care how he managed or where he lived. That was private business, or what they described as “personal issues”.

So the boy often disappeared as quickly and as easily as he appeared.

But no-one ever associated him with The Archer. He had become a legend, a sort of myth that made the forest and the nearby village an attraction. He became the terrifying story parents threatened their children with to make them behave. He had become a ghost despite still being alive.

He carved his own bows and arrows, made his own home, and by now knew all the places food could be found in plenty. He lived poorly but managed to gain all the necessities life handed abundantly and was satisfied with how well he fared. What he hated was the look in the villagers’ eyes. As The Archer phantom, he saw fear, prejudice, and loathing. So many negative feelings for a being they hardly knew. And as the boy, their eyes reflected sorrow, shame and sometimes compassion. But that is not what he wanted. All he desired was some kindness, someone to invite him into their home and share a warm meal with him. The boy, just like The Archer, simply wanted to be accepted. But in his own eyes, that was the most difficult feat of all.

The view from the other side

the other sideIt is an undoubted fact that wherever you stand, you will only see one side of everything. You won’t really know what is on the other side unless you try to gain a different perspective. Unless you open your mind, lessen your pride and accept to view something different.

A pauper will never know what it is like to live in riches, until s/he steps into a mansion, has every need catered to, and is relieved of every worry. Similarly, the so-called upper class will never fully comprehend what life is like for the less prosperous, the less fortunate, who need to work long days to earn their living, and sometimes even that may not be enough.

There are things that no matter how hard you try, reality always exceeds your imagination.

Jack Canfield had said “Everything you want is on the other side of fear”. But in order to get rid of that fear, you need to be able to open your mind and your soul to whatever may come. To be ready to accept that whatever you find on the other side will be something you are capable of handling and accepting no matter what.

To be able to step onto the other side, you need to already be comfortable in yours, and curious enough to learn what else is out there.

Change in the silence

Change - leavesYou can hear it in the silence. The change that is coming. You can feel it in the air around you. You can sense it In that cold breeze that causes your eyes to water.

Changes are often unpredictable. They are a fundamental part of life. And we are usually the ones we’ve been waiting to change.

But sometimes, just some times, those changes are strange. Not that they are not welcome. On the contrary. But in that they seem to affect everything we’ve ever known up to that point.

It is when you see people who have inscribed their names into your heart, now being with someone else.

Or when you see loved ones being happy. With others.

It is that melancholic feeling of witnessing the change that is happening around you. Without you. Despite of you.

It is that feeling of trying to make sense of everything, but no matter how much you try, or how much you think you’ve managed to sort out everything, there will always be that small “issue” in your life that you can never understand.

There are some things in life that no matter how much everything else changes, those will never do. They usually involve feelings. Ones so strong, they can break down every single defense you raise against them.

But at times, regardless of how hard you fight, resistance is futile, because maybe some things are just not meant to be. At least maybe for the time being.

Perhaps in a year or so, you’ll look back at it all and wonder what you were so worried about. Perhaps it is all just a matter of time. And faith.

But like Alan Watts said, “The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.

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