Right Here, Right Now Right Here, Wrong Now?

Fear is one of nature’s tools for continuing to unfold. Without fear we may not remember to be careful. Fear has a job. It is not here to ruin your day. It is here to keep you alive.

For example, fear reminds us that heat burns our skin. Remembering to keep our skin away from extreme heat is necessary, eh? We depend on our minds to store and recall destructive experience. We learn, we remember, and we adjust.

Everyone I know has felt the pain of being burned. Sunburn, hot metal, hot sand under our feet. Most of you have memories which are keeping your skin from being singed. You don’t have to think hard about it. Your hand simply pulls back. Your feet step lightly. Your body remembers.

And yet, if I avoid all forms of heat the practical value of fear is temporarily lost. How will I heat you a cup of tea?

We are as humans capable of using heat for good. We can cook, warm, melt, light, transform. We can gather around a fire and feel comfort instead of danger. The same is true for fear. Fear is valuable when used mindfully. Fear can be a teacher, not a tyrant.

But fear becomes confusing when it is no longer connected to what is actually happening. When fear is here, but the danger is not. When the body believes something is coming, even when nothing is coming.

If you are experiencing deep fear, seizing up your gut, you are likely in the right place while forgetting when you are.

Anxiety is a sign that we are threatened. When we feel anxious we are all able to ask this question: AM I SAFE?

Are you safe now, as you read this? Is there a wild animal hunting you? Is a speeding vehicle coming right at you? Right here, right now are you safe? Are you breathing? Simply notice. If you have stopped breathing, start again. Know as you breathe in and know as you breathe out.

This is not about forcing calm. This is about checking in with reality. Fear can be real, and fear can be imagined. Fear can be responding to danger, and fear can be responding to a memory, a prediction, a story. Sometimes fear is remembering the past, and sometimes it is rehearsing the future. Both can feel the same in the body. Tightness. Contraction. Racing thoughts. A sense of urgency. A sense that something is wrong.

Your body is always in the right HERE. Your mind is capable of being in the wrong now.

So we return. Again and again. Not because we are broken, but because the mind is talented. It time-travels. It tries to protect us. It tries to problem-solve. It tries to prevent pain. And sometimes it does that by pulling us away from this moment and dropping us into another moment entirely.

Right here, wrong now.

When you notice that—when you notice that you are afraid—pause long enough to ask: What time is it, really? Not the time on the clock. The time in your nervous system. Are you in this room, or in an old argument? Are you on this chair, or back in that hospital hallway? Are you safe in this breath, or bracing for something that isn’t actually happening?

When is your RIGHT NOW?

Right now might be the sound of a refrigerator humming. Right now might be the feel of your feet on the floor. Right now might be the simple truth that you are breathing. Right now might be safe enough.

And if right now is not safe—if there truly is danger—fear will help you act. That is its gift. But if right now is safe, fear can soften when it is met with truth.

Right here. Right now. Check again.

When is your RIGHT NOW?