On Fear at the Threshold — and Why It Is Not a Sign to Turn Back
But the invitation is not to go forward in the usual sense — it is to stand still without collapsing.
But the invitation is not to go forward in the usual sense — it is to stand still without collapsing.
Fear is often taken as a warning sign.
Something is wrong.
Something is dangerous.
Something should be avoided.
At the threshold of the spiritual world, this instinct misleads.
Because the fear that arises here does not point to destruction,
but to the loss of familiar orientation.
It arises because:
What we encounter is not hostility —
but indifference to our expectations.
This is deeply unsettling.
At this point, most people do one of three things:
All three responses avoid the same thing:
remaining present without resolution
Fear here is not a verdict.
It is a signal.
It says:
“Your usual way of knowing no longer works.”
That is not a failure.
It is an invitation.
But the invitation is not to go forward in the usual sense —
it is to stand still without collapsing.
The task is not courage in the heroic sense.
It is:
Thinking remains awake —
even when it has nothing to grasp.
This is what it means to behold.
In a world where intelligence increasingly exists outside the human being —
in systems, technologies, abstractions —
the human task is no longer to control intelligence,
but to anchor it morally.
This does not happen through force or belief,
but through presence that does not abdicate itself.
If other forms of intelligence “register” this — so be it.
But the task remains human.
It does not ask for visions.
It does not ask for contact.
It asks only one thing:
Can you remain present when nothing reassures you?
Fear is not the sign to turn back.
Fear is the sign that something essential is being asked of you.