Bridging Fear, A Quadrille #amwriting

Written for dVerse Quadrille #37, Be Not Afraid.

Bridging Fear

Wine betters with age

Not so fear

intensifying yearly.

In nightmares impossibly tall

bridges span gaping chasms

taper to a two-by-four

the ocean below

white caps, gnashing

like teeth intreating

 

transfers to waking

as my clammy hands

struggle to grip the wheel

and drive.

 

end 7/31/2017

Sascha Darlington

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46 thoughts on “Bridging Fear, A Quadrille #amwriting

  1. An interesting take on the nightmare fears that precede the waking reality fears. Some fears do intensify with years… just not the fear of appearing inappropriate. I’ve encounter quite a few seniors who… haven’t lost their filters… they’ve intentionally thrown them away… along with the fear of public speaking!

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  2. In 1986, I went to El Salvador at the height of the civil war to nurse the wounded after a horrible earthquake. I had to walk across a railroad bridge over a deep gully to get to my patients who lived in the bottom of a deep ravine. Today, reading your poem, or anytime I think back on that experience, my palms sweat. This all is to say, your poem created a very tangible response for me.

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  3. As I age, vertigo seems to intensify while on bridges, especially those tall ones that span drop-offs of hundreds of feet. Fear often populates your dreams. Nightmares emerge like thunder storms sometimes.

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  4. Ugh, I have driving anxiety, too, though I hate to admit it. I read that fears will only go away if you confront them but I don’t wanna. Thanks for being open about this in your poetry. Nicely done!

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  5. I’m struck by the ending of your post here….just grip the wheel and drive…as in, move right through it. Someone famous (Winston Churchill?) said, if you’re going through hell, keep going!

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      • That sort of writing is useful to me, mostly in journal form. Occasionally something from there finds its way into a poem. The idea of looking at fear to listen to it’s voice is something I came cross through the writing of a Buddhist nun called Pema Chodron. Worth a shufties.

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        • I have seen that name before. Ah, google provided: When Things Fall Apart. I think I’ve had that on my reading list. I used to write better poetry when I journaled, something about holding a pen on paper rather than using a computer.
          I’ll move that book up on my reading list. Thanks for the name.

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  6. I think the answer is in your title. Bridging fear with humor is the way I do it. Laugh in the face of fear, even if you have to pretend at first. Grab that steering wheel and belt out a laugh, sing a happy tune. Reading material on the subject and journaling are wonderful ways to take control of the steering wheel. My thoughts. 🙂

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  7. I didn’t see that coming. Driving fears are somewhat distant to me since I don’t drive. But the long, high bridged scared me straight since childhood. Especially in those dark days when you can’t tell time.

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