Thank you for these reflections. Eleanor Roosevelt said, "do one thing every day that scares you." It is a path to fearlessness and, thus, to knowledge.
Henriette, I really enjoyed reading your response. And I especially liked your story about how we fear that something we loved won't strike us as powerfully if we return to it again, as in the case of the Braque painting. I feel that way about books that I read as a pre-teen, when reading became a passion: Gone with the Wind, Exodus, Rebecca, and so many more. I've resisted the urge to re-read some for this very reason. But, as you've pointed out, this is a fear that doesn't need to be overcome. I think I'd rather hold onto my memory of the "first time" when it comes to certain books. With fears that are standing in the way of us enjoying life, achieving our writing goals, etc., some of those are more important to address.
It's interesting, Meta, because these experiences that we -don't- revisit (out of fear that they could never be repeated/recaptured) can end up being treasured memories, and in that sense I suppose we could say we're "overcoming" the fear by transmuting it into something else: a beautiful object (if you take memory as object). Maybe there's a way to do this with other fears as well, to not feel that they're shameful, but to respect them and see them for the positives they create.
Thank you for these reflections. Eleanor Roosevelt said, "do one thing every day that scares you." It is a path to fearlessness and, thus, to knowledge.
Henriette, I really enjoyed reading your response. And I especially liked your story about how we fear that something we loved won't strike us as powerfully if we return to it again, as in the case of the Braque painting. I feel that way about books that I read as a pre-teen, when reading became a passion: Gone with the Wind, Exodus, Rebecca, and so many more. I've resisted the urge to re-read some for this very reason. But, as you've pointed out, this is a fear that doesn't need to be overcome. I think I'd rather hold onto my memory of the "first time" when it comes to certain books. With fears that are standing in the way of us enjoying life, achieving our writing goals, etc., some of those are more important to address.
It's interesting, Meta, because these experiences that we -don't- revisit (out of fear that they could never be repeated/recaptured) can end up being treasured memories, and in that sense I suppose we could say we're "overcoming" the fear by transmuting it into something else: a beautiful object (if you take memory as object). Maybe there's a way to do this with other fears as well, to not feel that they're shameful, but to respect them and see them for the positives they create.
Lovely way of thinking about it.