This letter stirs my curiosity. I tend to notice my limitations and fears and then stop there, forgetting that behind them—behind the very discomfort I resist—often lie my greatest gifts. What might become possible if I choose to face the fears that arise each day? When I avoid them, I cut myself off from experiencing the "deeper, more real part of who I am."
The fear that feels most alive right now is the fear of being all alone "forever." Yet by moving toward it instead of away from it, I’m beginning to discover a deeper capacity to nourish and care for myself, align my actions with my intentions, and to truly receive the love, support, and connections that already surround me. Facing this fear is also bringing me back to what matters most—what I care about, what I long to create, and who I am becoming.
Thank you, Ronit, for continually illuminating the path. Love you.
Every time I step onstage I have this small fear of touching the edge of my vulnerability, authenticity, but i realize i dont generate enough opportunities for me to dive deeper into fears and the growth it offers, i look forward to this new year of getting more intimate with fear and more importantly love, connection and community, thank you <3
Your description of speaking publicly for the first time felt so visceral in my body as I read it! It reminded me of the first time I spoke publicly, and the release that came after I realized I survived it. I teared up when you wrote about sinking into the older man’s embrace... something about that image of fear meeting safety and freedom went straight to my heart.
I must say, the invitation to shift the way I relate to fear rather than avoid or fight it feels surprisingly humbling and liberating. This letter reminded me that my fear isn’t a sign or proof that something’s wrong with me, but a signal that something meaningful is sitting underneath... waiting to be met if I choose to.
I’m realizing my practice now is learning to really trust that fear can actually guide me toward discovering more of my power and also my humanity. Reading this brought back a handful of memories when I somehow mustered the courage to face my fear, and your framing helped me understand more of what was really happening inside me in those moments. I had no idea how much self-judgment I was still holding around those experiences…wow. And now I can feel more care and compassion starting to come through! Thank you 🙏
This letter stirs my curiosity. I tend to notice my limitations and fears and then stop there, forgetting that behind them—behind the very discomfort I resist—often lie my greatest gifts. What might become possible if I choose to face the fears that arise each day? When I avoid them, I cut myself off from experiencing the "deeper, more real part of who I am."
The fear that feels most alive right now is the fear of being all alone "forever." Yet by moving toward it instead of away from it, I’m beginning to discover a deeper capacity to nourish and care for myself, align my actions with my intentions, and to truly receive the love, support, and connections that already surround me. Facing this fear is also bringing me back to what matters most—what I care about, what I long to create, and who I am becoming.
Thank you, Ronit, for continually illuminating the path. Love you.
Every time I step onstage I have this small fear of touching the edge of my vulnerability, authenticity, but i realize i dont generate enough opportunities for me to dive deeper into fears and the growth it offers, i look forward to this new year of getting more intimate with fear and more importantly love, connection and community, thank you <3
Your description of speaking publicly for the first time felt so visceral in my body as I read it! It reminded me of the first time I spoke publicly, and the release that came after I realized I survived it. I teared up when you wrote about sinking into the older man’s embrace... something about that image of fear meeting safety and freedom went straight to my heart.
I must say, the invitation to shift the way I relate to fear rather than avoid or fight it feels surprisingly humbling and liberating. This letter reminded me that my fear isn’t a sign or proof that something’s wrong with me, but a signal that something meaningful is sitting underneath... waiting to be met if I choose to.
I’m realizing my practice now is learning to really trust that fear can actually guide me toward discovering more of my power and also my humanity. Reading this brought back a handful of memories when I somehow mustered the courage to face my fear, and your framing helped me understand more of what was really happening inside me in those moments. I had no idea how much self-judgment I was still holding around those experiences…wow. And now I can feel more care and compassion starting to come through! Thank you 🙏
I remember that day well my courageous friend