Fear (3 of 4) Friendly toward Fear and What is Fearless
- Date:
- 2020-07-01
- Speakers:
- Gil Fronsdal [Talks] [@AudioDharma]
- Location:
- Insight Meditation Center [Talks] [@YouTube]
- Generation:
- 2026-09-01 (gemini-3-pro-preview) [Raw Markdown] [YouTube Video]
- Keywords:
This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video above. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.
Fear (3 of 4) Friendly toward Fear and What is Fearless
So, this morning is the third discussion about fear. I don't feel like I'm an expert on fear, but I am a great proponent of the willingness to be present for it, the willingness to study it, and to be with it. This is partly with the idea that our fear needs us, that fear is an indication that something is valuable for us to pay attention to.
One of the important functions of fear is to protect us. The desire for protection and the instinct for it is a very important part of human life. Some of that desire to protect is healthy and important, and some of it may not serve us and can actually even be harmful for us.
So, we want to be able to stop and take a look at fear. Maybe the bumper sticker for this week is "I stop for fear"—to stop and really take a deep look at it and see what's here. There are times in my life when it's been appropriate to be afraid in physical situations where danger was present. I learned that fear was my friend. Fear was there to protect me in the situation, and I learned to keep the fear present or allow it to be there, kind of like it was over my right shoulder and it accompanied me. I didn't let it limit myself. I did what I had to do, but I saw that fear as my companion, as my guide, as my support for finding my way, and to be a little more cautious than I normally would be. In those times, fear was a good thing.
Other times I've been fearful and anxious in my life, and it didn't serve me. It limited me, contracted me, and shut me off from myself and my life around me. So, this idea of stopping to look at what's really happening here—and to do it with friendliness, so that in looking at ourselves, what's inside doesn't have to be afraid of us.
When looking, it's important that we find a way to look and be present that is not harsh, critical, demeaning, shame-making, or unfriendly to what's going on. Whatever fear we have inside really does well with a friendly attitude: "Now, that's how it is. That's how it is." And then we begin to find our way with it.
Yesterday I talked about how important it is to study our relationship to fear. Independent of what we're afraid of, or the fear itself, there's a second layer that goes on that can be understood as the second arrow (or the third arrow)[1]—what we add on top of our experience that is not really the experience itself. The fear of fear, the shame of fear, the recoiling from fear, the automatic believing of fear, or the falling into fear—these are all secondary relationships and reactions we have.
Sometimes it's really useful to step back and look at the secondary reaction and see how we are. I've known people for whom it was impossible to touch or get even close to their fear, but they could hang out with the resistance to the fear, or the walls that came up around their fear. It was safe enough to be with the relationship. Once they kind of saw that, and maybe it quieted down, it turned out they were ready to be with the fear and to feel it.
The relationship with fear, when it becomes simpler, is in a certain way accepting or allowing. It is a friendly willingness to be there without a lot of reactivity. Then an interesting thing to explore further is not so much the fear itself, but what is it that's being threatened? What is it that the fear is protecting? What is it that is threatenable inside of us?[2]
That can reveal all kinds of interesting things. That deeper layer of what we think is being threatened sometimes reveals whether it's a healthy fear or unhelpful fear, a wholesome or unwholesome kind of fear.
For example, there was a time in my life where I had social anxiety—plenty of it. At some point, I realized that I was afraid and nervous, but I was afraid of something particular. I was afraid of being rejected by people, of being disliked by people, of being excluded. I felt deeper inside a kind of insecurity, a kind of emptiness, or a kind of tenderness that was deeper than that, that was easily threatened below.
Then I learned that I could take care of that part of me in a different way. Meditation helped a lot for me because I started to learn to settle, relax deeply, and soften into this place of tenderness—this place that felt like it could be threatened. I discovered eventually that if I relaxed, settled, and opened, it was not threatened at all. It couldn't be threatened. That was kind of counterintuitive to what I had imagined or felt before that.
This idea means you recognize what is it that is threatened. In physical situations of danger, maybe it's my life or my well-being that is threatened. You might think, "Oh, well, that's maybe wise; let's be careful now." But what if what's being threatened is my self-definition, how I want to project myself in the world?
I was very surprised, in my first year of Buddhist practice, by how much I was trying to talk in ways or be with people so they would see me in a certain way. It wasn't so much that I was attached to an identity, as much as I was attached to the identity I wanted other people to have for me. So, I did these social gymnastics to try to get people to see me the way I wanted to be seen. It was a kind of a headache. Through meditation, I could see how tiring and counterproductive it was.
More importantly, I got to see that there was a place inside that's not threatenable. I love that the word integrity, apparently, in Latin means "cannot be touched." I don't know if that's true, but like tangible, integrity apparently has that kind of root[3]. Whether it's true or not, the idea is that there's some place inside of us that's so complete, so free, that it can't be touched in any threatening way by what's around us.
Certainly we can get injured, and certainly all kinds of things can disappoint us. But to have a home inside that is not threatenable, that we carry with us—it is maybe a little bit like an empty space that things just go right through, but it's a rich, valuable, and nourishing place inside.
So, turn around and look, and see: what is it that's being threatened here? Then question it: is this a useful and important thing to protect? Or is this not really such a wise thing to protect? Does this really come from some place that doesn't represent the best in me, or represent what's most useful, supportive, or even true?
If it's trying to protect my story, protect the idea that I'm right, protect the idea that I'm powerful and have control over other people—is that really useful? Is that something to protect? If you feel like it is something to be protected, like power or status, chances are we haven't dug deep enough. We haven't relaxed and settled deep enough to really see what is not threatenable.
This is kind of the big question, a kind of koan or reference point in practice. When you really learn to be with fear—and sometimes it takes years to learn to be with it in a simple, kind, and supportive way—then you can ask yourself the question, "What feels threatened here?"
Keep asking it. What is it that feels threatened below that? What's threatened here? Keep asking until perhaps you can settle, relax, and bring a kind of friendliness and kindness to what is here. You'll discover in the quiet and stillness of your mind or your heart that there is a place—or maybe it's an absence of place. There is a freedom, there is breathing room, there is a clarity. I like the word freedom—a freedom that is not threatenable by anything.
Then there's a basis and a foundation for friendliness that can be unconditional. A friendliness that can just be with what is here. Even with what's difficult, even with difficult people, you can be friendly. Maybe sometimes from a distance, sometimes close in, but knowing how to take care of ourselves in this place where we're at home, deep inside where we're free.
So, those are my thoughts for today. I hope that gives you something to explore for yourself. My wish for these talks that I'm giving these mornings on fear is not to tell you how it is with fear. I apologize if that's the way language works or sometimes teachers work. My wish is really to give you material to question, look at yourself, and explore this wonderful topic of fear.
It's such a huge part of life. I am convinced that if you are able to really turn around and become an expert on your own fear and recognize the ins and outs of it, that will also be a gift for others. I believe that if you really get a good understanding and wisdom around your fear, you're not just doing it for yourself—you're doing it for this whole world. It's valuable for all of us to become wise around this important part of human life.
Announcements
Thank you very much. Tomorrow at 7:45, after my short talk, we can switch over to Zoom like we did last time. Those who want to stay can ask questions and I'll try to answer. The Zoom link will be on the IMC calendar, which went down yesterday because of Google, but it'll be on IMC's calendar and also in the "What's New" section of the homepage. I'll put it in the chat box for YouTube as well. I'll say all that tomorrow too. So thank you.
Second Arrow: A reference to the Sallatha Sutta (The Dart), where the Buddha teaches that when we experience an unavoidable painful event (the first arrow), our reaction of aversion, fear, or suffering is like shooting ourselves with a second arrow. ↩︎
Original transcript said "threatening ball," corrected to "threatenable" based on context. ↩︎
Integrity: The Latin root of integrity is integer, meaning "whole" or "untouched," which derives from in- (not) and tangere (to touch). Tangible also derives from tangere. ↩︎