Years ago, I had asked him what his biggest fear was. He told me it was the unknown.
Isn’t that what we’re all afraid of?
Whether it’s darkness, a stranger, or creaking noise coming from the attic, don’t they scare us because we just don’t know? Don’t know if they mean us any harm? Don’t know what to expect if we cross our safe zones? For all we know, the creaking could be a bat flapping its wings or someone with a baseball bat breaking in.
Yes, the fear of the unknown is what’s scariest.
Not knowing sucks.
In all capacities.
Let me tell you this story: A girl is texting this friend almost every day and even if that friend isn’t particularly glued to the phone (which isn’t bad; it means they have a life), they do well to answer within twenty-four hours. Then all of a sudden, gone. No blue tiks on Whatsapp, no replies back. Forty-eight hours pass. The first assumption is Oh, they’re just busy.
But on the third day they’re supposed to be hanging out.
They don’t lift the phone or reply to the SMS saying she’s SMS-ing because they haven’t been checking Whatsapp or answering the phone.
Maybe they’re still asleep? It’s early enough. But then it isn’t early anymore.
Maybe they forgot? But they remember everything.
Maybe they’re ghosting me? They’re not the type. If they didn’t want to talk, they’d say as much.
Maybe there’s something wrong with their phone? This is the more optimistic doubt.
Maybe something happened to them?
And that’s where it always ends. The train of anxiety suddenly crashes into a dark tunnel and we’re forced to tell ourselves to calm down. Everything’s fine. They are just busy or asleep or ghosting you or their phone broke. They’re okay.
They have to be okay.
Except we live in a world where the realities are COVID, car crashes and plane crashes, robberies, random shootings and targetted assasinations, earthquakes and hurricanes, and do I have to go on?
Anxiety sucks. Anxiety in our world in our times sucks worse.
Every minute of every day we are surrounded by pain and death and the only thing worse than experiencing them or witnessing someone else experiencing them is wondering, not knowing if the person on the other end of the line is okay.
I don’t believe in praying. If you know me well enough, you know this. I don’t ever ask for good grades or hot dates. It’s selfish. I don’t pray. And I definitely don’t pray when I need something. It’s dishonest. If I were god, I sure as hell wouldn’t be helping out someone who lacked faith year-round until they needed something or were in trouble.
But we all have our exceptions.
I saw an ambulance pass by me last night on my way home and as is my habit, I drew a cross for Jesus, said salam to Allah, and namaste to Krishna. On the off chance that someone’s listening, please help whoever’s in that ambulance.
On the off chance that someone’s listening, please let it just be that he’s busy or sleeping or ghosting me or that his phone broke. Please let him be okay. Please let me know if he’s okay.
Pondering all this, it occured to me: Doesn’t matter whether we’re praying for ourselves or someone else, we’re always praying because we’re scared of the unknown.
