Giving Thanks for Fear

Written by Noemi Giszpenc, CDI’s executive director

“Never forget that justice is what love looks like in public” – Cornel West 

We are midway between Halloween and Thanksgiving, so it seems appropriate enough to say that we can be grateful for our fears. 

I hope that it is also a little jarring. Fear? Really? Is it a good thing? Oftentimes, no. Fear is a terrible counselor, and making decisions or taking action based on fear often leads to worsening cycles of the very thing that makes us afraid. Fear can also shut us down, paralyze us into inaction. 

Let’s take a simple example. I get vegetables and herbs from my CSA (community supported agriculture), and sometimes I don’t know what to do with some of them. If I neglect them too long and let them sit in my refrigerator, inevitably they start to wither, or worse, decay. The longer I let my fear of dealing with them dictate my action (or lack thereof), the worse the problem gets. 

But where fear shines is in revealing what we truly desire. Do we fear unknown vegetables? Maybe we desire knowledge and confidence with cooking them. This works on bigger fears, too. Do we fear strife and turmoil? I’m guessing we desire peace. Do we fear a raging climate? We probably desire livable weather that sustains us. If we fear being treated as less-than, what we desire is to be seen and accepted as equals. If we fear being silenced, we desire the freedom to express ourselves. Do we fear poverty, or illness? We desire prosperity and well-being. 

There are heavy, deep things to fear. White people in particular harbor fear that the harm and destruction that white societies have imposed for centuries, and continue to impose, on Black people, Indigenous people, and other peoples will be avenged in some way. White people fear being held responsible. White people fear that “enough for all” is code for “expropriation” and “they’re coming for me”. 

Can this fear be a gift? Is there something to embrace in what it reveals? Perhaps, the hidden desire is for healing, justice, and wholeness. Isabel Wilkerson wrote so beautifully and forcefully in The New York Times Magazine, “America’s Enduring Caste System”:

Not one of us was here when this house was built. Our immediate ancestors may have had nothing to do with it, but here we are, the current occupants of a property with stress cracks and bowed walls and fissures in the foundation. We are the heirs to whatever is right or wrong with it. We did not erect the uneven pillars or joists, but they are ours to deal with now.

And any further deterioration is, in fact, on our hands. 

Taking apart centuries-old, haunted structures and rebuilding a home for all of us–work of that magnitude is daunting. But living in a crumbling, dangerous house is scary, too. What is motivating is a vision of a welcoming, safe, nurturing, open home that can stand for generations. And as cooperators, we know that we can do more together than we can alone. The way to do this work is in community, by listening, by loving in public. 

Naming the desire behind our fears brings to light so many beautiful possibilities. There are many things that we can fear, for sure. With the passing election, and the combined sense of both relief and continued anxiety this next transitional phase is fostering, we want to continue to turn toward our cooperative principles as a guide for positive change in our nation. Cooperation teaches us to come together across divides for our mutual benefit, to move forward together to a better future. We know the pandemic and the economic crisis will probably get worse before they get better. Racism and inequality are as destructive as ever. And the destabilization of our climate and environment is gathering momentum. But the best way I know how to overcome the paralyzing fear of all that, is to focus on what I want, what we all want, to have. Peace, sustenance, justice, freedom, prosperity, well-being. Healing.  

With those desires in mind, the questions become more interesting. What will contribute to peace? What will ensure sustenance? What will build justice? What will safeguard freedom? What will establish prosperity? What will nurture well-being? How can we heal from harm? What is our role in all that?

So, let’s not fear our fears. Let us embrace them and see the desires at their heart, and do everything in our power to bring those desires to fruition. Let us remember that the Thanksgiving harvest is a celebration of partnership among Earth, Sun, and human endeavor. We have everything we need for all to live a life of abundance. Let’s make it happen.