What are we afraid of?

Another journal entry:

"Last night I dreamed I heard a dog growling menacingly at my door. The door was flimsily constructed and I was afraid that the creature would be able to smash right through it. Sure enough, seconds later the dog bounded into my living room, rearing on its hind legs. Without thinking, I grabbed hold of its sleek black body and held it tight against me. Standing chest to chest, our heads facing in opposite directions, I kept saying to myself: 'I’m going to die! I'm going to die!' I felt as if I were engaged in an epic battle. . . . (Is this overstating the matter? Perhaps not.) I harbored little hope that I would survive, but I refused to back down. At the very moment I was certain was my last, the dog's teeth at my neck, the creature let go of its grip and fell on its back. Suddenly endowed with speech, it entreated me to pat its tummy. I was overcome with love, no longer seeing him as my mortal enemy but as my dearest friend.

I woke up feeling as if I had mastered the Game of Death, empowered and free, Roosevelt's famous line ringing in my ears: The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

Note: The painting above is titled "Surreal Voyage" by Mike Unrue. You can purchase the print at www.artistrising.com