Reflecting on… Fears

While on an excursion in Scotland I found myself on a foggy cold morning stepping into a catamaran on the Loch Ness and staring into the depths of the deepest loch in the world to find monsters. The rest of the girls were gaggling at a variety of birds that were pecking their way around the edge of the boat (did they never watch Scooby Doo and were NOT completely enthralled with the monsters below us?) and I literally could not take my eyes away from the water below me. I pictures a large sea monster swirling below the boat, snapping its large Scottish teeth and flubbering its way to the surface.

I think that it never surfaces because it takes too long for it to get back down to its bed. If it took too long to return to bed would you ever leave your deepest depths?

The funniest things about fears is that when we face them directly they stay hidden, and we feel disappointed at their lackthereof, which is so ironic, I mean we are always told to face our fears to get rid of them to conquer them, and to be honest when I climb a mountain or face running out of time (a huge fear of mine) and I succeed, I overcome, I miss the fear, I miss the pressure, the sweat, the heartbeats. Is that strange? So when the greatest mythical Scottish monster was creeping below me and refused to surface I was naturally disappointed.
I think this is a known feeling around Loch Ness.

I’ve recently embarked on a new project with a close business associate (TAHA) on a writing discovery project where we are looking into hidden things, mysterious things, and fears. I think the idea of having fears physically below us, unable to surface, to be a frightening and exhilarating experience. Despite the scientific explanations and quarries with the Loch Ness monster I picture a soft lake in the dead of night, slowly swallowing up the land as the water mass grows and a fin pokes out, producing three small white lilies and leaving them on the surface before retreating for a longer stay than before. Those three lilies are lit by warm sunlight as the dawn breaks, and the fisherman who take to the loch every morning with their young sons to bond see those lilies and think merely there are frogs living in the pond. Ah but no, there are secrets below.

Isn’t it so beautiful how everything can always fit together? It is a bit intimidating.
xx

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s