When fear grips me I keep looking at it as if it was something real. I find that it is the most real thing that can be. It is in me, it is around me, it has a life of its own. It sure does seem to exist.

But in reality, fear is not a thing. It only ‘exists’ in me because I let it. But it is not real existence. Right the moment I change my mind about it, it is gone. Because it lacks essence. It has only ‘lived’ in a fantasy world.