The Thursday! Newsletter 1-10: Fear Hates Company
Volume 1, Issue 10
I have a lot of fears.
I'm afraid of enclosed spaces, of suffocating, of being jumped by some cranked up crusader who thinks I'm a Nazi, of being mediocre, of being ignored and alone, of being taken for something I'm not, of being the 75 year-old man stocking shelves at Walmart because that's the only work he can get to pay the rent, of big spiders, and of bigger dogs. When I was a teenager, I used to wake up terrified of the end of the world and the dizzying eternity that would come after. Of course my fears were irrational, for a lot of reasons. That didn't stop me from coming up the stairs and down the hall into my parents' room and waking my Mom so she would come sit and talk with me until the fear drained away.
As I got older, I stuck to safe paths, which meant very little ambition but also very little risk. Seemed a good idea at the time. It even seemed like a good idea when it clearly was not (about which I wrote in a previous issue).
I've gotten a lot better. The fears still come and, instead of waking my Mom, I wake my wife who, graciously, has not put me out on the front porch. She listens to me and talks with me and the fears slink away. There aren't as many fears as there used to be. I don't worry all that much about big spiders or dogs. I worry more about being the forgotten old guy or being punched for a Nazi. I've gotten stronger in my faith so the end of the world doesn't scare me.
Still, I get afraid. I bet you do too. I bet you have fears that keep you up at night or that come to you when you're by yourself and it seems, just for a moment, like you'll be that way forever. It's okay. I'm going to share a little something with you. It's a secret that your fear does not in any way want you to know.
You aren't alone.
See, what helped me most over the past couple few years were a couple very patient, very wonderful, very human friends who have fears of their own. They listened to mine and shared theirs with me and showed me that I'm not the only one who worries about being alone or ignored or useless. They told me about times the fear grabbed them so hard they could barely breathe and I almost yelled "YES! THAT HAPPENED TO ME TOO!" The next time it happened, I remembered them. I remembered I'm not alone. I even said it out loud until I could breathe right and the fear backed down. That doesn't mean I didn't need them again. I did. I still do, quite a lot. I have long conversations with them sometimes about what scares me and they tell me about what scares them. They help me and I help right back and, somehow, when we're done the world is better.
I figure maybe you can use this right now. I'm not going to sermonize about the world. It stinks. But it always has. What makes today worse than the days before is our utter inability to escape the doomscreamers. They are on the television. They infest your social media feed. Heck, they OWN your social media feed. They're on the radio and in commercials and on PSAs and in movie trailers and in movies and in books and in your e-mail. They have found ways to get everywhere, into everything, all of the time. We hear about every little outrage, real or imagined, in the country and even in a good chunk of the world. The doomscreamers don't need to rest because they are legion, so they scream and scream and scream. We are all so busy being screamed at we can't even look up and notice that everyone else is hunched over holding their ears, too.
But we are. We're not alone but we feel alone because the doomscreamers have isolated us. That way, we'll reach out to them instead of to our friends and people who actually care for us.
Well, I'm here. I'm one. To hell with the doomscreamers. To hell with the headline writers. To hell with the spammers and the scammers and the posers and the preeners. To hell with people who profit from our misery. To hell with anyone who says you are alone and you suck and your neighbor is the worst evil. To the deepest pit of hell to those who think they are the top of the heap and you are a foot soldier.
To. Hell. With. Them.
You are not alone. Got it?
I am here. You are here also. I'm one and you are two. Is someone else out there? I bet so. That's three. Maybe we get to four or five. Maybe ten. Who knows? Let's keep reaching out. Let's keep pushing fear away. My friends helped me. I'm in it to help you. You get in it to help someone else. We stay in it to help each other.
That's how we all sleep well at night and how the fear stays outside in the dark woods, where it belongs.
Book Update: I have come here to chew bubblegum and reveal a book cover. And I'm all out of bubblegum.
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Here Are the Arts and/or Letters I Promised...
How to draw a cat, from What To Draw and How to Draw It, a book by E.G. Lutz, published 1913.
Mr. Lutz's cat has seen things. You can tell.
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Here Are Links, either Useful or Fun!
The first of two podcasts on the list this week. Sarah Werner digs into the question of whether artists are better off thinking of themselves as entrepreneurs as well.
The second podcast is all about the coolness of Steve McQueen. So, yeah. That's worth getting into.
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One Last Thing
If you'd like to talk back to me, encourage me, suggest something you'd like to see or you'd like me to write about, you can always hit the reply button! I can't promise I'll always answer back, because I'm quite forgetful, but I'll read everything you send.
Remember, Thursday! is a constant work in progress. I didn't have a certain plan for what I wanted the newsletter to be when I started, so it'll change as we go along. Let me know what you like so I know I'm getting it right, okay? Okay!