Fear Is Gravity, Not Truth

Fear has been my most persistent companion. Not because I want it, but because it shows up everywhere — whispering in the back of my mind, coloring the news cycle, humming in the nervous system of entire communities. Fear is the collective hum, the gravity that holds us down.

But here’s the thing: fear isn’t truth.

Fear feels real because our bodies believe it. The heart races, the breath shortens, the palms sweat — and suddenly, our entire being screams, “This must be reality.” But psychology tells us that fear is just the amygdala firing. Neurology reminds us that fear doesn’t distinguish between a lion in the room and an awkward conversation at work.

Fear is gravity. It keeps us orbiting the same cycles, stuck in predictable misery. But just as gravity can be transcended through lift and aerodynamics, fear can be transcended through love and awareness.

Scripture echoes this: “Perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18). Rumi reminds us, “Try to accept the changing seasons of your heart, even if they seem cold.” Newton reminds us that gravity is powerful, but not final. Planes fly. Rockets launch. Souls ascend.

Fear is not destiny. It is a field, not a verdict. And our task is to rise beyond it.

So how do we rise?

We start by naming fear for what it is: sensation, not prophecy. We start by practicing tenderness with ourselves. Radical self-love is the only consistent force that lifts us. And we anchor in community — people who remind us that when we forget, when fear sneaks in with its clipboard of lies, we are still enough.

Fear is gravity. But you? You were born for flight.