Fear is a Liar! May 2025

Fear is a liar and a trickster. It threads together half-truths and forgotten memories, stitching them into stories that feel like prophecy. It doesn’t shout at you; it whispers just loud enough to keep you from stepping fully into your becoming. It convinces you that the unknown is a threat, that the path ahead is lined with failure, rejection, and loss. But fear rarely tells the truth. Instead, it tells the tale that keeps you safe, stagnant, and silent.

Many people think fear is loud and violent, like a thunderclap. But the truth is, fear is often subtle. It disguises itself as logic. It cloaks itself in practicality. It poses as wisdom, asking you to second-guess the very thing your soul has already confirmed. You think you’re being cautious, discerning, careful—but what you’re really doing is shrinking under the weight of a fiction that fear has spun just for you.

In the SOL temple, we don’t ask fear to leave. We invite it to sit down and tell us what it wants us to know. Because even though fear is often misguided, it is not always without purpose. Sometimes, it is the younger part of you trying to protect you with the only language it knows. It’s the inner child gripping your hand too tightly. It’s your mother’s warnings echoing through your bones. It’s ancestral grief lingering in your DNA, unsure if now is really the time to be free. Listening doesn’t mean obeying. Listening means recognizing fear not as the enemy, but as a marker—a place in your spirit that needs breath, truth, and healing.

We live in a world that profits from your fear. Entire systems depend on it. The less you trust yourself, the more you buy. The less you speak, the easier you are to control. But in sacred space—in this temple—you are reminded that your fear is not more powerful than your purpose. Your fear is not more ancient than your soul. Your fear is not your identity, it is a signal that power is rising and your comfort zone is being stretched. That’s all.

You are not wrong for being afraid. But you are not meant to live inside that fear like it’s your forever home. There’s a door. There’s always a door. And behind it is not just courage, but clarity. Your fear wants to protect the version of you that was wounded. But your higher self is calling forth the version of you that is wise enough to transmute that wound into power.

And so we walk—not fearless, but heart-open. Not reckless, but rooted in trust. The goal is not to erase fear, but to see through it. To ask it better questions. To let it ride in the backseat while purpose takes the wheel. That’s the spiritual maturity we cultivate here.

In this temple, we make sacred space not just for peace and joy, but for the uncomfortable places too. Because that’s where the transformation happens—in the murky middle, where fear and faith have a conversation. And from that dialogue, something sacred is born: not just bravery, but sovereignty.

May the trembling places within you be held with gentleness. May every whisper of fear reveal a truth you are now ready to reclaim. May you walk forward not in the absence of fear, but in the presence of divine clarity. May your spirit remember its original promise—To rise, to heal, to expand, and to lead with love. You are not behind. You are not broken. You are not bound. You are becoming. And that becoming is holy.

May your courage be quiet, but steady. May your knowing grow louder than your doubts. And may the sacred fire of your higher self burn brighter than any shadow cast by fear. It is done. It is sealed. So shall it be. Amen. Ase'. Selah. Ajo.

🌞 Affirmation:

“I am no longer led by fear's fiction. I walk in truth, in trust, and in the full power of my sacred becoming.”

May loving peace be with you all,

Ningba