27 November

Giving thanks for friends, for fear.

by Jon Katz

Lulu, Fanny, in the dark, by the barn

  November 27, 2008 – There is something forced in the idea of taking a day to give thanks. It suggests that you don’t have to do it every day, and also, like the holidays themselves, pushes people who are not necessarily jovial into all kinds of situations where they have to act happy.
 Still, it is good to be reminded to take note of the blessings in life.
  I came to this farm six years ago. I am still figuring out why. Animals are an important part of the trek, but they are not the point. The journey is the point. Some of this has to do with fear.
  I was terrified when I bought this farm, and I’ve been more or less terrified ever since. Every day I confront things I didn’t imagine I could or would confront. Every day, I become stronger.
  I’ve been writing indirectly about the community of fear for more than a year now. In a couple of weeks, the Troy Bookmakers will be publishing my own/text photo essays about this, “Out Of The Shadows.”
  It’s been a brawl, punctuated by ferocious encounters with the past, ghosts of family and childhood, hard work in therapy, and on myself, challenges, reinventions, disconnections and changes with many people I know. I think I might be getting somewhere with parts of this experience. I have come to accept that one can live in a cloud of fear and anxiety that is not always reality. I believe in the pursuit of the authentic self – being honest and true to yourself. I wrote a year ago that fear is a space to cross, a geography of pain and suffering that can – must – be traveled, and traversed. I can’t imagine any worthwhile experience that doesn’t involve some fear for many people and I am coming to see that if you don’t quit, and you get help, and you listen to good people and believe them, then fear has borders, and can be crossed.
  I am especially grateful for the opportunity to see this. It has opened up my life, permitted me to grow and tackle deep wounds and issues, connected me to wonderful people, changed my ideas of love and safety, informed my writing and my photography. To explore and confront fear is to take the ultimate passage into one’s own soul and experience. If you are in any way a creative, this is a gift.
  I have come to believe more in cliches and old truths. I believe hard work pays off. Courage is not about fearlessness, but about an ideology of surviving fear. A meaningful life is not possible without faith. Safety does not come from money, duty, security or external life. People appear when you need them. So, sometimes, do dogs and other animals.
  Last week, I took my truck in to be serviced in Glens Falls, N.Y., and there, I met the Toyota service manager, a competent and courteous man named Jim, who told me that narrative in the country had to change. If our lives were so totally in the hands of market managers, he said, we are spiritually bereft as a people.
  Life is not about money and markets, and if we put our notions of safety into money, we will be bereft, frightened and purposeless.
  Honestly, I did not expect so much clarity and wisdom from my truck service manager, although shame on me for that bias. But how wise, I thought, and how true to my own experience of the past year and the last few months.
  I am learning who I am. I am becoming more whole. I am learning where to put my trust and security. I am understanding the notion of honesty. I have made real friends. I am coming to understand what love means. And doesn’t mean. I have a lot more to learn. I am on it.
  Last night, I was reading William Manchester’s book on Winston Churchill, “The Last Lion,” and was inspired by his sense of purpose and determination.
  The goal is victory. Nothing less, nothing more.

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