The Unexpected Guest

Lady Uppity Invites Fear to Coffee

It was like finding a box that had been hidden in the dark, damp corner of the basement—a large, old, dust-covered box marked in bold red letters:

DO NOT OPEN.

But she did.

Curiosity got the best of her. Lady Uppity simply had to open that box.

That night, after the sound bath meditation, she anticipated sleeping soundly. Instead, she tossed and turned, dozing only briefly in the wee hours of the morning. The tossing and turning brought dreams—not disturbing, but interesting.

And the dreams, though provocative, stirred fear.

The next morning, while sipping coffee and listening to the pouring rain, she made a note in her journal:

Interestingly enough, my dreams seem to be passively reviewing past traumas. If the past never changes, how then do I change my relationship with it?

She sat back, took another sip of coffee, sighed, and stared out at the rain, listening to the storm wind sing through the trees.

It was then that she recalled the Tarot reading Lady JezzyDarling had offered the Sunday women’s circle. The message had been simple: be mindful of the changing winds.

The winds are indeed shifting.

I forgive myself, she hastily wrote. But still, there is fear.

Spiritual teacher Ram Dass suggested that when fear or anxiety are present, we might invite those difficult emotions in for a conversation.

So she did.

My dear Fear, would you be so kind as to sit here at the table and join me for morning coffee and a heart-to-heart chat? We have been companions on this life path forever. I am forgiving myself for avoiding you and for trying to make you go away. And now I am ever so curious as to what wisdom you have to share with me. Why are you here?

She waited.

The rain continued its steady tapping against the window.

Nothing.

Another sip of coffee. Another long look at the gray morning.

Perhaps Ram Dass was wrong. Perhaps fear had nothing to say after all.

Then, somewhere beneath the noise of thinking, beneath the rehearsed stories and old explanations, she heard a whisper.

I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve always only wanted to protect you.

Lady Uppity burst into tears.

Long, hot tears streamed down her face. Not tears of anger or fear, but tears of relief.

All those years she had treated Fear like an intruder when perhaps it had been standing guard at the gate.

Not always wisely. Not always accurately.

But always trying, in its own clumsy way, to keep her safe.

How could she not have known this before?

Perhaps because she had spent so many years trying to outrun fear, silence fear, heal fear, or make fear disappear that she had never stopped long enough to listen.

Fear, it turned out, was never asking to be obeyed.

It was asking to be heard.

The rain continued tapping against the window.

Lady Uppity sat quietly, hands wrapped around her coffee mug, watching the wind move through the trees.

The winds are indeed shifting, she thought.

Not because the past had changed.

It hadn’t.

The dreams, the memories, the old stories were still there.

What had changed was her willingness to meet them with curiosity rather than resistance.

She smiled.

After all, it was curiosity that had led her to open the forbidden box in the first place.

And inside she found no monster waiting in the darkness.

Only a faithful old companion she had misunderstood for years.

Lady Uppity vowed to greet Fear differently when it next arrived at the breakfast table.

Perhaps with a cup of coffee.

Perhaps with a question.

The parts of us we spend decades trying to silence are often waiting patiently to be heard.