The Smoke Monster

Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje as Mr. Eko in the TV series LOST, confronting the smoke monster. 

Here’s what I know about fear. It uses my inaction and isolation like a storage room. It gathers there like smoke with me in the middle - just sitting there, watching the exits get more obscured, feeling my panic rise and breath harder to find.

Here’s another thing I know about fear. It creates a nightmare world detached from what is, and convinces me that what is, isn’t. It seeks my belief, my supplication. It’s a paralyzing toxin, holding me still while it designs its escalating, self-affirming horror show - all for an audience of one.

The smoke monster of fear will be on the loose this week. We must avoid the temptation to scream for help on pages like these because we will only be reaching other people in other storage rooms of dread. We will be feeding the beast. Fear enslaves us. No wonder tyrants love it.

But . . .

Fear hates action. This week, I will do things (I mean with my body in motion - fear wants me to confuse doing with thinking or intending). These things will not be in response to fear, they will be in the service of fear’s opposite: hope.

With my Dad across from me, my kid to my left, and kid’s partner across from them at brunch after seeing kid in an amazing adaptation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Bard College. 

Fear hates connection. This week, I will be with other people (I mean in the same space at the same time - fear wants me to confuse virtual connecting with actual connecting.) I will talk about my fear and I will let these other humans hear me and help me. Then I will listen to them, and when laughter comes I will give way and fall deeply into joyful connecting. And I will notice that I am no longer in my smoky barren storage room. I will notice that I am in the real world, among friendly humans, and that we care about each other.

Fear hates joy. This week I will do things I enjoy, in the real world, with friendly people. I will love my body with rest, exercise, plenty of water and good food. If I am lucky, I will be held by someone who loves me. I will sing and dance to music I love, tell jokes and stories, laugh at jokes and stories, and marvel at the silly spooky season of Halloween.

And if I am overwhelmed with anxiety and distress I will let myself fall apart among my friends. I will ask for help - and I will be open to receiving it.

Feelings are contagious. And this week I choose to spread the virus of joy. Fear will try to make me feel stupid and naive for doing so. He wants me back in the dark room. But I choose to be outside in the sun, under the moon, among friends, letting the breezes blow the smoke away.

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Special blog extra: Rich Pelley’s interview in The Guardian with the Smoke Monster from LOST.