Fear by Pablo Neruda

Everyone is after me to exercise, get in shape, play football, rush about, even go swimming and flying.  Fair enough.

Everyone is after me to take it easy. They all make doctor’s appointments for me, eyeing me in a quizzical way.  What is it?

Everyone is after me to take a trip, to come in, to leave, not to travel, to die and, alternatively, not to die. It doesn't matter.

Everyone is spotting oddnesses in my innards, suddenly shocked by radio-awful diagrams.I don't agree with them.

Everyone is picking at my poetry with their relentless knives and forks, trying, no doubt, to find a fly. I am afraid.

I am afraid of the whole world,afraid of cold water, afraid of death.  I am as all mortals are, unable to be patient.

And so, in these brief, passing days, I shall put them out of my mind. I shall open up and imprison myself with a most treacherous enemy, Pablo Neruda.

As you interpret between the lines, is the poet not encouraging you to spend time with yourself while you still can? If you learn to listen to yourself, then you'll answer the question, "now what?"  The time is now to discern your fears, pin them down, identify who imposes them and share your story.  The paradox of fear is to learn how confronting them is the first step to diminishing them.