The Clearing

At the center of every fear . . .

The Clearing

At the center of every fear

is a clearing, and though you must

trudge for miles in the dark woods

to get there, it’s worth the trip:

now you can sit down for a while

among grass and hawkweed, you can

bask in unfiltered light, and see

the heavy clouds shifting overhead.


At the center of every fear,

if felt completely, is an empty

space where the wind tickles

the hairs on your neck, then arcs

an arm around your shoulder,

pulling you closer like a father

at last unafraid to show affection,

here to let you know you’re not alone.

There is so much to be afraid of these days. And for those of us whose minds tend toward anxiety, we might be feeling even more layers of fear and worry on top of what was already there. If we are caught in the grips of fear and uncertainty right now, however, it might be hard to accept the premise of this poem—that a clearing waits at the center of each of our fears, whether we choose to enter it or not. I’ll admit, sometimes this is impossible for me to believe, or I don’t see it until after the fear passes, and I realize I was standing in that clearing the whole time. This happened to me recently on a series of flights, when I simply could not quiet the voice of my fear and resistance. I had three hours to wait for my next flight, and felt surrounded on all sides by noise and people and a rushed energy that made me feel even more anxious. Then I came upon a cafe that served coffee and food, and though they were blaring music, I knew this would be the place where I stepped into that calm center waiting inside myself. I just needed to be still and present enough to slip into it.

Perhaps this whole poem—and so much of our lives—hinges on the phrase that comes in the second stanza: “if felt completely.” We may never reach that clear center unless we choose to feel our fear completely, let it pass through. And once we do, we may then be able to move beyond agitation, into a greater engagement with our senses and the physical world around us. Once fear moves through, or even while we’re feeling it, we might notice wind tickling the hairs on the back of the neck, then wrapping around us as if placing an arm around the shoulder. Isn’t this how it works when we agree to feel anything completely? We emerge from the emotion with a wakefulness that wasn’t there before, ready to believe we can love the world again, ready to believe that the world—broken and beautiful, frightening and comforting—can love us, too.

Invitation for Writing & Reflection: See if you can explore the texture of your own fear and agitation right now. What does it feel like before and then after the fear lifts? You might begin with my phrase, “At the center of every fear . . .” and share what feels true for you.

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Join me below for an in-person event in Milwaukee, WI and my next Stubborn Praise session with Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer!

Poetry Reading (in-person) for Unlocking the Heart with Kimberly Blaeser
Boswell Book Co, Milwaukee, WI
Saturday, November 2nd at 4pm
Register for this free event here

Stubborn Praise: Grateful Anyway with Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Tuesday November 19th 7:30-9pm EST
Register here (small fee, session will be recorded)