Splash No. 142 - Fear
Fear
I would love to be able to stop euphemizing the virus (“given the state of the world”), but I’m unable to shake the underlying fear and confusion that serves as the backdrop for every thought I have. In the foggy beginning, the virus reminded me of my fear of death, as it mysteriously filled the news headlines and no one knew a thing. However, as I learned more about the low death rate for my age, I found fear in what its symptoms could lead to if I caught it — its ability to take away my love for food or flowers; the possibility of losing the joy of running as fast I could to catch a football; the loss of peace of mind that my heart would continue beating.
Among this constant spiral of fear, I realized all of the ways that fear has always controlled my thinking about the world. That even for small things like driving or cooking, I see the worst-case scenarios, every possible bad ending to the story. In this way, fear has either directly or indirectly influenced nearly all of my actions, for better or for worse, even in my writing.
Often, I try to guide my decisions using certain narratives. One societal narrative reminds us that our lives are short, and thus we must dedicate them to making a mark on the world. This narrative reminds us of our individualism, tells us that we have something unique and important to offer the world. In contrast, my personal religious narrative reminds me that we are all part of the universal spirit called atman, and that most of my material accomplishments in my life are irrelevant compared to the spiritual growth I’m attempting to attain in this life (one of many). I logically subscribe to the latter, but for now, my societal conditioning often wins out, as my desire to mean something overwhelms. I’m still deeply attached to the identity of this life, and thus afraid of losing that identity to the flow of time.
When I let the societal narrative take over, I am attempting to calm my fear of being forgotten take over. I cope with tweets, newsletters, Instagram posts, whatever could remind the world that, yes, Nikhil Sethi exists in this world and has something to say. I often use this newsletter to imagine a better approach to how I can live my life — switching the lenses and altering my approach to be a kinder, happier, softer human being. I write most of them to myself, attempting to adjust my sails in order hope of finding the right direction for my life. And even as I write about my interests, I find myself expanding the significance of everything, trying to show how my interest in chess makes me clever or why my interest in sports is something beyond emotional investment in things that connect me with other people.
Yet, in this action, I often paint a very specific picture of myself that doesn’t represent the whole. I’m creating a portrait of the enlightened Nikhil, a warped form of that identity that I want to be remembered when I’m thinking about society’s narrative. The enlightened Nikhil is a caricature of who I am, molded to match the most pious and memorable folks with really sick Wikipedia entries.
But here’s the thing: Starry Night wouldn’t be very interesting if it was simply the yellow tones or simply the blues. The work of art is famous for its entirety — how the darks and lights work together to provide contrast and create a beautiful composition. And in the same vein, giving in to the societal narrative and focusing on creating a perfect image to be remembered in a specific way is a whitewashing of who I am: just another imperfect person. One who is afraid of nearly everything, and is truly just hoping for the best.
I’m terrified of the future and have no idea what to expect. I worry that the shift into normal life post-pandemic might be scarier than living at home in the bubble I’ve been privileged enough to be a part of. I’m scared that I’m going to panic in every situation. I’m scared that San Francisco won’t be the same. I’m afraid that nothing will be the same. And yet, even as I try to figure out a way to make constant fear sound super cool and positive, I’m okay with being scared. And I’m okay with y’all knowing that it’s a part of who I am.
Drops of the Week
PLAYLIST - february 21 - what I listened to in February! good mix of Arlo Parks, classical, pop-punk and folk in there.
ARTICLE - "A note from San Francisco" by Mat Honan - nice little piece about San Francisco old and new, recommended by my buddy Jay
FILM - The King of Staten Island - good not great movie with a fun cast (Bill Burr! Steve Buscemi! Jimmy Tatro! Marisa Tomei!)
The president may not be a white supremacist, but there's still work to be done. With each day, we move closer to a more equitable world. Reminders:
Ways you can help Mutual Aid Networks
Anti-racism resources
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Indomitably,
Nikhil