Fear: Stuck in a Bind

Within a musical named The Civil War, there is a piece, "The Peculiar Institution." In this piece there is a group of lyrics that really speak to me. They are as follows:
       "And it feels more like dying than living when somebody ain't free."
Though these lyrics are apt to describe the situation the actor's are portraying, I feel they can also be applied to other situations. When the words are seen alone, out of context of the musical, their meaning can begin to relate to many situations. I consider fear to be one of the strongest binds against a person's freedom, and as the lyrics say, a life without freedom feels more like death.

With the conclusion that fear is an enemy of freedom and a restriction to a fulfilled life, I am similarly reminded of the poem "A dream Deferred" by Langston Hughes:        

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.Or does it explode? This makes me not only question the future of that deferred deam, but also further encourages me to ponder the future of the deferring dreamer. What happens to the people who defer their dreams? Why did they defer thier dreams? Did fear keep them from fulfilling their dreams? Do they die with the regret that they never sought to answer their greatest "what if" or greatest "I wish?" Do they die feeling as if they had never lived? Do they wish they had lived chasing their dreams rather than slowly dying in a nightmare? Do they find relief from the burden of regret only in death? And to think, that burden began with a bind: fear.

How much freer would they have been without fear clinging to their hearts and chaining their souls? Without that bind, life would have been their's for the taking, freedom absolute. If they had persued life in the fashion they had deepest wished, rather than as the aimeless wanderer fear had molded them into, they could have died knowing that they had lived. Their last breath, the freest they ever had.

Something Little

Have you ever stopped to think about that one random person who helped you out one time? Whether they were letting you out of a parking lot into the line of traffic, holding the door for you, or giving you a smile when they didn't even know you needed one? Do you ever think of that person whose name you didn't catch? I like to think that people have this desire to be remembered, and in an effort to to be so, they try to acccomplish big things, something that will have everyone knowing their name. But, today as I was remembering that one random person who helped me out one time, I realized you don't have to have a name to be remembered. Sometimes, it really is the little things that matter most, and I want that random person to know I didn't forget. Thanks. 

Fear and Other Limiting Mindsets

So today, as usual, I was thinking and this is what I’ve concluded: humans must molt mindsets the way snakes molt skin; it is necessary for survival, though it’s probably nicer to remain in a mindset most familiar. That comfort must be lost in order to grow. That comfort, given long enough, will become stifling, snuffing out not only our ability to grow, but also our ability to survive and thrive. However, we should not simply shed our old mindset and leave it behind to degrade; it was once a part of us and should remain as a reminder of where we’ve been, where we don’t want to return. New and fresh ideas are necessary for growth, and shed mindsets will serve as markers of the stale and narrow-minded concepts we no longer need. We can also apply this notion to fear; it’s a mindset we have to shed if we wish to become something great. Like the massive snakes which molted many skins to become so, molt enough mindsets and we’ll have impressive growth too. We can never grow if we continue to writhe in the stifling skin that is our all-consuming fear. So, shed the fear or die.

Betrayal

Betrayal. It’s what you suffered today. The worst part: it was from you. You thought it would come from anybody else, but not yourself.  Someone can only betray you if he or she is close to you, otherwise, it isn’t betrayal. It’s just someone who wronged you. Some stranger you don’t know, committing some crime against you, that you can take. That you can get over, but betrayal is a much deeper cut with a much stronger poison. So, by definition, if betrayal is something that can only be committed by one close to you, doesn’t it come as no surprise that you betrayed yourself the most? Who is closer to you than you? Who knows your thoughts other than you?