Fear Wears a Suit

For most of my life, I thought fear would be easy to recognize.

I imagined it as a monster.

Big.

Loud.

Terrifying.

The kind of thing that barges into the room announcing itself.

Healing surprised me.

Fear grew up.

It got a job.

Bought a tailored suit.

Started shaving every morning.

Is that… Old Spice? 😂

It looked responsible.

Professional.

Even wise.

It carried a leather briefcase and had an answer for everything.

It never said,

“Be afraid.”

Instead it whispered,

“I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I’m just being responsible.”

“I’m staying one step ahead.”

“I’m making sure nothing bad happens.”

“I’m just looking out for your family.”

The actions it suggested weren’t necessarily wrong.

Planting a vegetable garden is beautiful.

Saving money is wise.

Locking your doors is wise.

Eating healthy is wise.

Setting boundaries is wise.

The action wasn’t the problem.

The driver was.

One day I realized I could build the exact same garden from two completely different places.

Fear said,

“Plant vegetables because the world isn’t safe.”

Love said,

“Plant vegetables because watching life grow brings me joy.”

Same garden.

Different gardener.

That changed everything.

⸻

Then something else began to unfold.

I realized fear doesn’t only wear a suit.

It lives…

Outside of me.

Fear is constantly scanning.

What are they doing?

What if something goes wrong?

How do I stay ahead?

How do I control this?

Who can reassure me?

Who can validate me?

Fear is always reaching…

Always grasping…

Trying to hold life tightly enough that nothing can hurt me.

Then I met love.

Love wasn’t reaching outward.

Love was coming home.

Love lives from within.

Love says,

“I trust myself to meet whatever tomorrow brings.”

“I trust that I don’t need to control everything in order to be okay.”

“I can love something deeply without possessing it.”

That realization changed the way I looked at nature.

One day I found a Luna moth.

I thought she was dead.

I gently reached down to preserve her beauty.

She flew away.

Another day I found a beautiful dragonfly.

I wrapped it carefully so I could take it home.

A fan caught it.

The wind carried it away.

At first I thought I had simply lost two beautiful creatures.

Now I wonder if they were quietly teaching me.

Love meets the world…

With open palms.

Fear meets the world…

With closed fists.

Fear believes love must be held tightly or it will disappear.

Love understands that beauty doesn’t need to be possessed to be honored.

An open hand can hold a butterfly.

A closed fist destroys it.

Suddenly I saw my own life.

How often had I tried to grip?

Grip certainty.

Grip relationships.

Grip answers.

Grip validation.

Grip the future.

Grip God.

Not because I was controlling.

Because I was afraid.

Fear always promises that if I can just hold on tightly enough…

I’ll finally be safe.

Love gently smiles and opens its hand.

Not because love doesn’t care.

Because love trusts.

That doesn’t mean I stop planting gardens.

Or saving money.

Or protecting my family.

It means I ask a different question.

Not…

“What am I doing?”

But…

“Who is driving?”

Fear and love can suggest the very same action.

The difference is the energy behind it.

Fear acts to avoid losing.

Love acts to celebrate living.

Fear plants seeds trying to prevent disaster.

Love plants seeds because flowers are beautiful.

Fear apologizes because it has to.

Love apologizes because it has changed.

As a little girl, my mom used to make me apologize to my sister.

“Tell her you’re sorry.”

“Sorry…”

Did I mean it?

Not even a little. 😂

The words were right.

The energy wasn’t.

I think adulthood works the same way.

The world teaches us to change behavior.

Love changes the heart that creates the behavior.

That’s when I realized awareness isn’t about arguing with every thought.

It’s about listening for the energy that delivered it.

Sometimes fear arrives looking exactly like wisdom.

Clean-shaven.

Well dressed.

Smelling suspiciously like Old Spice.

Holding a five-point emergency preparedness plan.

I don’t throw him out.

He’s been trying to protect me for a very long time.

I simply smile.

Offer him a cup of tea.

And say,

“Thank you for your concern.”

“You can ride with me…”

“But you don’t drive anymore.”

Because I know something now that I didn’t know before.

Every choice plants something.

Every conversation plants something.

Every thought I nurture plants something.

Fear multiplies fear.

Love multiplies love.

The lens matters.

The energy matters.

I matter.

Because I am one human being standing on this earth.

For me, that’s a sacred responsibility.

I believe my life becomes part of something larger than myself. The love I embody, the peace I cultivate, and the compassion I extend become part of the world I help create.

I am boots on the ground.

One heart.

One life.

One open hand.

And today…

I choose to anchor love.

Not because fear never knocks.

But because…

Fear doesn’t have a home here anymore.

It may still visit.

It may still wear a tailored suit.

It may still smell like Old Spice.

But Captain Awareness has the wheel.

And we’re driving toward the garden…

With open palms.

🌷 Closing Reflection

Before you leave the garden…

This week, pay attention to one decision you’re making.

It can be something ordinary.

Making dinner.

Sending a text.

Planting flowers.

Saving money.

Setting a boundary.

Then pause and gently ask yourself:

“Who’s driving?”

Is this choice being made from fear…

or from love?

The action may stay exactly the same.

But when love takes the wheel, even ordinary moments begin to bloom differently.

Today, may your hands remain open…

your heart remain soft…

and your choices be rooted not in what you’re afraid of losing—

but in what you’re grateful to grow.