I carry a lot of fear.
Most of it is self-inflicted.
In August, I was fired from my job because I filed a Statement of Candidacy to run for Congress. Explicitly.
And now, I’m afraid. Afraid because the Washington Post reported that the long-term unemployment rate hit 25%. Afraid I won’t find another job before I run out of money. Afraid I’ll have to ask for help.
And I’ll be honest: my campaign scares me. Writing these articles does, too. The attention. The vulnerability. The scrutiny. My safety. All of it.
But I’m proud of those fears. I chose them. I invited them. I stepped into them with purpose.
And the truth is, if I’d done nothing, I’d still be afraid. Afraid of being the collateral damage of someone else’s financial mismanagement. Afraid of resigning myself to work that no longer seems to matter. Afraid of the direction this country is going. Afraid of the division, the cruelty, the hate.
And these fears? The quiet ones I walked away from and the ones that still peer from the dark? I’m grateful for them.
They’re the fears that have pushed me past fear.
They made me audacious.
They propelled me to action.
Fear is the great limiter of mankind – a low hiss that asks, “What if I can’t? What if it all goes wrong? It’s pretty, but it is Art?” It’s held me back. From taking risks. From chasing dreams. From personal development.
We grow up hearing these (admittedly dope) lines:
Fear leads to anger; anger leads to hate; hate leads to suffering.
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.
And so we learn: Fear is a flaw. Something to suppress.
But fear isn’t the enemy. Fear is a tool.
In the Art of War, Sun Tzu speaks of “death ground” or “dying ground” — the terrain where you can’t advance and can’t retreat. You’re surrounded. Cut off. There’s no way out. No choice but to fight.
At first pass, it sounds like a tactical failure. To arrive on death ground, a commander must have overextended or been outflanked.
But Sun Tzu points out: Death ground can be an advantage.
Put them in a spot where they have no place to go, and they will die before fleeing. If they are to die there, what can they not do? Warriors exert their full strength. When warriors are in great danger, then they have no fear. When there is nowhere to go they are firm, when they are deeply involved they stick to it. If they have no choice, they will fight.
Death ground focuses the mind. It demands strength you didn’t know you had. It unites people, elevates leaders, and channels fear into action.
Fear – inescapable fear – turns a ragtag group of peasants into an unstoppable force.
When fear becomes a baseline – when it’s always there, humming in the background – your relationship with the world has shifted.
Your thresholds have been altered.
Your limits have changed.
Explore them.
So ask yourself: Am I afraid?
And then ask: Is it a fear I’m proud of?
If not: What’s something I would be proud to fear? Why am I not pursuing that?
If you’re already afraid, why let fear hold you back? If all roads can lead to ruin, why not take the one with the highest upside? Why not pursue the path that excites you, even if it terrifies?
And if, like me, you fear the direction this country is heading, know this: the people in charge are borrowing their power from the rest of us. They’re borrowing it from you. You can take it back. You have agency.
If you think you can do a better job than the people in power, why not try? If there’s something in your community you can fix, fix it. Change won’t come from hesitation. It won’t come from retreat. It will only come when brave people put aside their fear, do the hard work, and make this a kinder, fairer, more responsible society.
Fear doesn’t have to stop you.
It’s not something to escape.
It doesn’t make you weak.
It makes you strong.
It’s fuel.
Use it.