Wisps of smoke

It was a cold January evening. A cold, foggy evening. It was the kind of evening that always reminded me of childhood – when we as kids would pretend to hold a cigarette in our hands, and breathe smoke out. Despite the cold, it was a warm memory, and a happy start to the new year.

I was still on holiday, the Christmas lights still decked the halls and inside the house it was warm and cozy. I was singing to myself while washing a pile of dishes from our rare bout of festive cooking when it happened.

I turned around and gasped with mild shock. He stood under the warm kitchen light, face covered in smoke, curling up around his head almost like the horns from a devil, holding his classic pipe.

“My goodness, you scared me. When did you get back?... I must have left the door open!” I said.

He chuckled softly as he came closer, his face fully visible now. “You have nothing to fear, but fear itself, my dear”, he said, as we embraced.

“You have been out too long in the cold… you feel colder than usual”. He said nothing. I looked at the clock: It was 7:30pm.

***

A while later, as we lay in bed, I told him, how it was strange that he mentioned that there nothing to fear but fear itself. It was a bit of a dramatic statement for a banal situation, but somehow it made sense, because I had been thinking about fear.

A recent situation had left me fearing the worst, making me incapable of, at least, that point in time of further action.

He lit his pipe once again.

Taking it in, he said: “Fear is the devil that can take over you, and corrode the mind. Or you can tame it, and make it your tool. Understand it, grasp it, feel it and release its power over you. When you truly allow yourself to go through it, you come out on the other side, aware, that this devil, is yours. 

And not the other way round”.

“You are wise, today. Really. Where have you been this evening?” I said.

***

I drifted off to sleep, to be awakened to the shrill ringing of the doorbell. When my eyes opened, I was by myself in bed. Dressing hurriedly, I dashed for the door.

I quickly unlatched it and found him standing there, slightly wet and very cold.

“Oh baby! I am sorry to have been out so long… it started drizzling when I was at the grocery store, my phone was out of battery and I had to wait there till the rain stopped”, he said.

It took me a minute to re-orient myself: “What’s the time?” I asked. “Why, its 7:30pm” he said.

I ran back to the bedroom – the only other door out of the house was closed from inside. But the scent of pipe tobacco still hung in the air.

“Is everything fine?... You face has fear on it” he asked, concerned.

I heaved a sigh. And smiled: “You have nothing to fear, but fear itself”.