Every human being – without exception – experiences fear at different stages of life. It is one of the most universal and fundamental aspects of human existence. From early childhood onward, fear accompanies us in many forms and intensities, appearing both in everyday moments and in those more extreme, when our inner strength is most severely tested.
Fear wears many faces. Sometimes it
arrives unexpectedly – as a barely perceptible breeze of unease, difficult to
name or define Other times it builds up slowly until it erupts into an
overwhelming storm of emotion that unsettles our inner peace and leads to a
state in which a person feels helpless, even paralyzed.
Sometimes, fear can take more
complex and long-lasting forms: obsessive thoughts, persistent tension,
inexplicable worries, or recurring panic attacks. It may grow from the soil of
a specific trauma, but just as often it arises without any clear cause,
surprising us with its intensity. At times, it strikes out of the blue; at
other times, it lingers in the background – like a quiet, constant hum that
cannot be silenced
Among all forms of human fear,
there is one that eludes simple descriptions and classifications. It is the
deepest and most primal, yet also the hardest to express in words: metaphysical
fear, which philosophy calls ontological anxiety. Unlike other fears, it does
not arise in response to a specific external threat, nor is it merely a
biological reaction to stress or danger. Its source lies far deeper – in
existence itself.
It is a dread that grows from
within a person, like a dark shadow accompanying the light of consciousness. It
doesn’t arrive suddenly like a wave of fear, but seeps in slowly – often quiet,
yet persistent. It is the pain of existence that requires no external
circumstances to awaken.
The source of this dread lies in a
fracture embedded in the very structure of human existence – a dissonance
between who we are and who we sense we could become. We live
suspended between finitude and the longing for infinity; between knowledge and
the mystery that remains inaccessible; between presence and the feeling of
emptiness. This
tension creates a space for a dread that cannot be silenced or distracted – neither
by entertainment, nor by daily routine, nor even by the most refined
constructions of philosophical reflection.
We sense that we were made for
something more. Deep within our soul flickers a longing – for wholeness, for
meaning, for eternity. And it is this very intuition that makes our finitude so
hard to bear. The body ages, time flows mercilessly, death draws closer with
each passing day – and still, the heart cries out for more. It is from the
impossibility of fulfilling our deepest desires that this dread emerges – not
in response to anything tangible, but to the sheer fact of existence.
It is not fear of something, but
fear from something – from being itself. From its fragility and inevitability.
From our powerlessness in the face of our own limits. From our awareness that
life, though precious, is uncertain and unmastered. That we are
never fully at home – permanently unrooted, carried by the tide of transience.
This fear cannot be entirely
eliminated. We may try to drown it out somehow – hide it beneath busyness, the
relentless pursuit of success, or layers of false certainty – but sooner or
later, it returns: in the silence of night, in a sudden question about the
meaning of our daily struggles, in moments of losing something dear to us, or
in times of deep crisis. And it does not return to destroy – but to awaken.
For ontological anxiety, though
painful, carries within it the seed of spiritual rebirth. It can become a path – not toward an abstract idea, but toward
Someone real. Someone who does not erase fear, but gives it meaning. In the
encounter with God, fear ceases to be endless darkness; it becomes light – light that reveals the truth. And truth,
though it may wound, is always the beginning of hope.
And thus, loneliness is overcome by
the presence of Someone who knows our name and never turns His gaze away from
us. Thanks to this loving Presence, the torment of existence gives way to entrustment.
P.S. This is a fragment of the conference ("Overcoming Fear Through the Power of Trust") that will be delivered at the meeting of the Miriam Women's Community, which will take place on October 17th at St. Mark the Evangelist Parish in Targówek.
