Chapter 2 - Generators of the World of Fear


We experience the world through the wisdom and knowledge that live within us and in the way in which we perceive ourselves, the world around us and the relationship between them all.

Our ability to move through life evolves as we apply that wisdom and knowledge to life and convert them from possibility into reality. This happens via the various insights, patterns and rules that we have adopted, inherited, discovered, created, or invented. These insights, patterns and rules operate much like fiber optics; they are the conduits, or generators, through which knowledge and wisdom are transmitted.

The generators transmit whatever people and their underlying beliefs choose to transmit. If a person sends out love, satisfaction and unification, then these are the qualities that will be broadcast to the world. Alternatively, if a person sends out separateness, conditionality and distance, then these will be the qualities transmitted. A person’s nature and the extent to which it is expressed in that person’s life will determine the generator’s function and the reality it creates.  

The world of fear is something that happens. It occurs, it is active, and it influences who and what we think we are. It is revealed and reflected through our choices, our actions and our relationships with others, day after day, minute after minute.

The way in which the world of fear lives within us is only through these generators. Because our inherent nature is not one of fear. Our nature is to be curious and aware, to connect and to touch. But the moment we come face to face with the world, we find ourselves once again turning to the mind and the generators that are at its service, reminding us that we are better off maintaining order and certainty. They demand subservience and they frighten us, returning us to the mind’s control and sphere of influence. 


The following are generators of the world of fear:

  • Domination 
  • Conditionality
  • Falsity
  • Law, Order
  • Violence
  • Despair
  • Pain
  • Suffering
  • Sorrow




The need to dominate stems from ignorance, from a deep confusion expressed by the world of fear.

The thought which drives domination is a belief that the world is complex and complicated, that I am lacking and vulnerable, and that the name of the game from this point forward is coping. This thought tells me that as a responsible person I must prevent myself and those close to me from experiencing any pain, and if I do not succeed in doing so, then I am guilty of any suffering that might occur. That as a responsible person, I must find mechanisms for protecting myself and my belongings and if I neglect to do so, it means that I have not fulfilled my obligation towards myself or those dear to me, and I will remain lacking and unfulfilled forever. 

When we believe that we are, by our very nature, lacking, needy and vulnerable, we can never truly be happy, loving or fearless – because we will always believe that at any moment what we have will be taken from us. Fear controls our movements and prevents us from resting. Fulfillment and realization of potential are nothing but fleeting thoughts for a person who believes that he is lacking. He will not stop in order to be grateful or happy. Instead, he will feel coerced to reach for the next thing with which he must cope. 

We believe that the prevention of death or insufferable pain, and a guarantee of safety, depends on our ability to orchestrate and direct matters. We believe that we must control the world and dominate it, and this becomes our main focus and our number one priority above all else. 


When we are convinced that we must (and can) control the world, we find ourselves inventing an entire universe, a false reality that operates according to its own rules, our rules, those which allow us to delude ourselves into believing that we are in control. And at times it might appear to be true. We create laws that prevent others from hurting us or taking from us what we rightly deserve; for example, by cheating, committing fraud, running a red light, by betrayal or shirking responsibility. We establish rules that give us a competitive advantage, power and leverage; for example, business monopolies, breakthrough inventions that completely change the rules of the game, and declarations of war.


And there is also the other side of the controlling vs. controlled dynamic: When I believe that I have no choice but to submit to the authority of another (for example, a colleague or spouse), I can decide to accept that person’s yoke, to agree to their authority, to seemingly experience what they are insisting upon.

However, if I do so, I will be operating from a rational and calculated place, believing that I have sacrificed my own integrity for the good of our relationship, rather than doing what is right for me. And the control-seeking mind, rather than bringing me up and pulling me out, will only further minimize, contort and distort me. I might find myself repeating axioms such as “I’m bigger than that”, “I can handle that”, or “it’s OK, let them have what they want” – and sometimes I might even feel like I am doing something noble. But deep inside of me, in this conversation that I am having with myself, I understand that I am being ruled by fear and that sooner or later I will feel like I am losing myself and I will rebel. 


Sometimes we might find ourselves agreeing to follow laws in order to subordinate ourselves/others to specific roles and sets of expectations necessary for maintaining the world as we know it, see it and understand it; for example, military conscription, marriage, citizenship, certain aspects of parenting, economics, government and elections.


These games – from their beginnings through to their middles and ends – all involve pain, diminishment, restriction and constriction. And the hope is a poor man’s hope – it will disappoint, it will fragment and it will cease. The core belief surrounding domination is that I am lacking; that I am either currently in danger or about to be in danger. This basic belief shapes the way I view the world and will always lead to a price being paid, to friction and to sacrifice. 


The decision to remain under the control of another, stems from the thought that there is an inherent danger and that I am vulnerable. That I am better off sacrificing the freedom that is natural to me. That is me. I will often even suppress my own free will and say to myself that my ultimate goal is security and the avoidance of pain. 

This is nothing more than a foolish act. The end result of an attempt to control is an even greater fear of losing control and disappearing into oblivion. 


At this point forward we find ourselves living in a silent but chronic terror that is unrecognized by most; a terror characterized by its disquieting nature, emerging from the knowledge that there is nothing in the world that we can truly control. We cannot control our lives to be exactly as we want them to be. And even if we have succeeded in doing so temporarily, even if we have received what we wanted or thought we needed, we are immediately terrified of losing it and our belief becomes even stronger – because we need it, we must have it, we must do it. 


And thus, in one minute, we become even more frightened and desperately attempt to control or maintain the results that we have achieved. It is a lost game in which every act that is driven by fear leads to more and more fear, and will continue to do so throughout our entire lives. 

As such, the threat also stems from our realization that this game of control simply does not work. From knowing deep inside that no matter how unsuccessfully we attempt to deny it, there is no chance that it will ever work. And yet we nevertheless continue to believe that we are completely dependent upon it. That we must succeed. 


We are like an ocean wave that one day wishes to be separate and independent and not return to its source. To be something other than what it is. To cease being water that comes from water and returns to water, and instead remains in the air, lost. 


On the condition that…. 

Only if…. 

On the condition that it doesn’t…. 

It’s impossible, unless… 

I can’t…. 

I can’t as long as…. 

I don’t know if I can…. 


These expressions, and the way they dictate our actions and drive us in our lives, are often referred to as “self-awareness” and “responsibility”. 

We believe the thought that being “self-aware” means knowing what I can and can’t do, what is good for me and what is bad, what is right or wrong with me or my actions. 


This couldn’t be further from the truth. 


We believe the thought that “being responsible” means being in control of things, predicting how they will play out, and doing something to guarantee their success. 

What a shame. 


This assumption of conditionality – the belief that the love, wisdom and beauty that is me and that is the world, can be manifested only under certain circumstances – is a mistake that leads to great pain and misconception.  

It is a common human error that has been passed down through the generations, created out of love and concern and implemented by society to ensure continuity and security. 


This belief that our very being depends “on the condition that…” leads us to believe that we are small, limited and restricted and causes us to live our lives aiming for an image, the “ideal self” that we either invent for ourselves or allow others to invent for us. It blinds us and distances us from our essential nature as beings of infinite light, as energies that are living, limitless and life-giving. This is what we mean when we use the word “soul”. 


Maybe the real meaning of leadership is seeing these conditions plainly and not believing them. Seeing them for what they truly are and helping others to do the same. Enabling others to recognize that the alluring falsities that they hold so dear are not really there. Are not true. Reminding them of what lies beyond.  


I think that this is the true meaning of love. 

Not giving up. 

If I don’t understand something – staying put. 

If I am unsure of my next step – letting my feet touch the ground and seeing that a path has been created. 

If I am certain that I know myself – knowing that it is simply not possible. 

If I think that I know what is good or bad for me – remembering that whatever I see or think I know is limited and depends on the scenarios playing out in my mind and perhaps in the minds of others. 

If I object to my power – not believing it. 

If I say harsh things about who I am – not listening to myself. 

If I think that something is empty or dangerous – knowing that I have been tempted. That I have moved away. That I am mistaken. 


The inherent opposite of conditionality is innocence.

Believing and trusting in the unknown rather than the known; in the hidden that is waiting to be revealed rather than the image that appears to be safe.  

The power of faith can move mountains and cast them into the sea.  

It is driven by curiosity and a trust in life, happiness and playfulness. 

It is the belief that life is wondrous, that every day is an opportunity for new discovery.  

It opens our hearts to pleasure, allows us to return to our dreams, awakens our imagination and lets fantasy and gaiety fill our daily lives. 

 It is a belief in the inherent knowledge that I am life and that life is me. That through dancing and celebration I will thrive. I will transcend limitations. I will reside in the so-called “illogical” or “impossible”. 


When we object to this innocence, we lose our curiosity and modesty and find ourselves cocooned in frustration, a tendency to erupt, compulsiveness and an aggressive view of life. We find ourselves needing to compete in order to move forward. We move through life under the dictatorship of our emotions without stopping to examine them. We have repressed anger. 

When we are in constant action, whether planning, strategizing, problem-solving or creating change, we are unable to tune in to the dynamic that is taking place deep inside of us. We are unable to access the spark that is us our flame, the fire that illuminates our nature, the truth that is always inside of us, beneath the layers that we have termed “we” or “who we are supposed to be.” It’s simply there, without us doing anything at all.


Release and awakening occur when we are ready to exist in that moment between expectation and action, when we agree to live within that tension. 

This is listening to the dynamic spark that exists within us, that renews us, allows us to see our true nature, encourages us to operate in a new realm and gives shape to our ideas. 


This is self-awareness.

This is the most responsible thing to do.

The rest merely diminishes. 

Falsity - A World of Lies

When people lie, they are unable to see that they are living in a space that is lifeless. For them, this is just the way things are. This is life. 


The anatomy of lies and of relationships built on lies is like this:  I am afraid – that “they” will hurt me, that “they” will take from me and leave me with nothing, that “they” will laugh at me or ignore me or ridicule me or make me worthless. 

But my fear is only of thoughts – because another person cannot make me worthless or empty; because even if I look ridiculous, it says nothing about my beauty or ability to love or be loved. Because even pain can only be caused by a thought with which I identify. Circumstances do not cause pain. When I forget that I am light, I become scared that I can be darkened, weakened or scorned.


In other words, when I am afraid, I identify with an illusory thought. That thought tells me to do something in order to avoid pain or fear, and sometimes even just to gain an advantage. And so I hide, I distort, I mislead – I lie. And when I lie, I believe in and grasp onto an additional human illusion – that another person is a being separate from me. 


When I lie, I don’t recognize my own freedom. I am unable to approach relationships with modesty and I forget that only truth will allow us to grow and develop; will allow us to quietly view our reflection in the mirror, to really see ourselves, and to truly love. When I lie, I forget that I don’t know what the person next to me or across from me at the negotiating table is meant to learn about himself through his interaction with me. I also don’t know what I am meant to learn about myself through my interaction with him. This can only happen if we allow ourselves to open our clenched fists and be receptive to that which is set before us at any given moment.


It’s moreover an endless cycle, because the person who has been lied to is now himself frightened. He has learned to believe that he can only count on himself. He knows that at crucial moments, he will be abandoned; that things are not as he thought or understood and that each person can only rely on himself. 


The pain of disillusionment is great. It is a feeling of being torn from unification, from the womb. I am not referring to the figurative womb discussed by psychologists, but rather a deep and true sense that we are all one. This pain emanates from the rift between the true nature of our soul and the way in which we actually live our lives. 

Once a person has been lied to, he himself becomes greatly tempted to lie. Because he also understands that he must hold his cards close to his chest. He also believes the story that it is dangerous here, in this life, in this world. He also believes that he must control others. 


In the world of lies, it is dangerous to tell the truth. Not just because you put yourself in danger, but because you are likely to unwittingly put others in danger as well since you don’t have a sense of how things really are for anybody or anything. 

Love and happiness cannot truly exist in the world of lies. They are of limited assurance because at any moment I might realize that everything I thought I saw is not actually what I thought it was. And more than that, I can’t be happy, nor can I experience simplicity and love, as long as I know this, as long as I find myself living in this boggy marsh where what appears to be a path is not a path. Where, if I’m not careful, I might sink. Where (continues the thought, in this world of lies) something maybe even put the path in my way so that I would be tempted to follow it and sink. As such, as a realistic and responsible person, I can never wholeheartedly trust, love or be happy. Never. 


The result: Women are lonely. Men are closed into themselves. Children don’t see their parents as partners or a warm place to simply be. Alienation and hardship prevail. 

Relationships that are based on lies are relationships that are based on emptiness and a lack of trust. 

These are relationships that do not know that the essence of connection is to discover the mysteries of ourselves and each other; to go back and see our true nature, to trust it and to live our lives from within it. Integrity. Relationships in which lies flow naturally are relationships which perpetuate avoidance; they are based on “comfortable” arrangements of not-seeing, not-feeling and not-knowing the unknown, the mysterious, that which is already here.


Therefore, the more spiritually developed person in the relationship is the one who bears responsibility. It is up to him to do the spiritual work of contemplation and reflection within himself, so that his reactions will not come from a place of emptiness and lacking. At the same time, he can be the one who points out the lies. He can share what he sees and feels. He can, over and over again, create space for contemplating and reflecting on what is happening. If he does not point out the lies when he senses them, feels them or sees them, then he is essentially expressing his lack of faith in both himself and the other person. And by virtue of his very decision to withdraw or run away, he himself perpetuates avoidance. 


These acts of observation and contemplation will overwhelm the fear that has led to lies and will allow you to see it clearly, together. 


This is a process of remembrance that is driven by love. 


This remembrance is a return to the knowledge that every encounter I have with myself, every encounter that is characterized by simplicity, truth and full presence, will lead to a beauty and power that are beyond words and recognition.


To live a life of lies means to pay a very heavy price. 

It is a life of great pain. 

A life of deep sorrow. 

Of futile effort. 

And of loneliness. 


It is not a pain caused by one distinct event or another. It is rather a chronic pain, an ever-present and persistently gnawing feeling, a separation and distance that cannot be bridged, that will never meet or close. 

It is an immense pain that originates from the soul.

It takes a massive amount of energy to control the situation in order to force everyone to define it according to what is convenient for me. 


And lies are not just for so-called “liars”. We all do it all the time. When I’m in that situation, I might consider why I am doing what I am doing. Perhaps I feel tired – of myself, of the endless repetition of words, of spending time with someone or in a specific place. And I might consider why I experience anger about perspectives different than mine. Why I continuously fight with the person who is lying. Why I feel the need to prove his actions to him, instead of using the lie as an opportunity for personal growth. 


When I refuse to grow, the result is that I find myself fighting lies and denouncing them, deluding myself into believing that I never lie, avoiding confrontation or contemplation. The result is righteousness. The result is falsity.  


This awareness and awakening comes through – and perhaps thanks to – the lies. 

We can grow only through what already exists, through this moment and my encounter with it. 


Saying yes to whatever shows up in our lives and looking at ourselves in the mirror, even when it is not pleasant; not reverting to “what makes me feel good, because I am good to myself”, but being exactly where I am now. 


Lies are good for helping us recognize that we are creating our own realities via our thoughts, just like every other thought or action. As long as we allow ourselves to dwell in the uncomfortable feeling that comes with a lie, we learn its vibration; what it does to our body and our soul and our relationships with others and the world.  


If we remain with eyes wide open, if we do not run away or attempt to solve, it will be easier for us to recognize the next time we are falsifying things. And we will falsify things again. And again. And that’s okay, because that is how we will learn. And so it’s important not to “change” too quickly or forcefully, but rather to be where we are now, to move slowly and gently, to learn and tune into our specific subtleties. To know that we cannot be where we are not. Technically. Realistically. We just cannot. 


We need to do the work.

We do not get to choose how things go. 



Law, Order

When we refer to “law” we are often referring to established or agreed upon ordinances and regulations that have emerged out of an inherent distrust in ourselves, others and the world as a whole. They stem from a basic and ancient belief that if we do not control, if we do not ensure obedience to the agreed upon rules of the game, chaos will ensue, evil will run rampant, and pain and suffering will rule the world. This same belief dictates the rules of the game, which say that if these rules are not agreed upon, we will find ourselves powerless and under the control of others. 


Such agreed upon rules and regulations create more fear, because what is based on fear sustains and spreads fear. They allow the sense of danger to increase and shroud opportunities for interactions that stem from love, gentleness and deep wisdom. 


When these beliefs form the basis upon which law and order is established, lies, concealments, contradictions and deceptions thrive.

When you come from evil, you will receive evil. When you believe in lies, you will attract and arouse the liar in those you meet. When you believe in thievery, that is what you will get. This is a heavy price, and one that I don’t even realize that I myself have created through my belief in lacking and danger, which in turn creates these established and agreed upon rules and order. I establish rules that I think will save me from the reality that has been created by these rules and from which I wish to escape. It is an endless cycle. 


True law recognizes the way things unfold harmoniously and naturally, exactly as they are meant to because that is their nature. 


The Law of Attraction gives an accurate description of the way nature operates. When you object to it, you suffer. Nothing can be created. When you accept it, endless possibilities become available to you. It is a fact. By submitting to, rather the opposing, the power of gravity, you can discover aviation.


Rather than enforcing law or maintaining it out of fear, we can explore the law of the universe and allow it to sustain us. Through it and because of it, we can create. Through it and because of it, we can discover who we truly are. 


Violence is blind. It doesn’t even realize that the use of force is an attempt to direct that which cannot be directed. Violence thinks that it’s possible to go from the outside in; that something external can cause change to occur. That force and effort can prevent, eliminate, achieve or control. 


But really, everything comes from the inside. 


Everything first happens internally. Thoughts fade, darkness dwindles and light finds its way in. Clarity. And the action that follows is an outside reflection of what is happening inside. It bears witness. 


Violence is unaware that force never works. It can never conquer, oppress or eliminate. Just try it.  


Violence forgets that the other person is a mirror of me. 

That what happens within him is also happening within me. 

That those thoughts which hold him back also hold me back, in some way or another. 


Violence forgets that exerting force on another person is me exerting force on myself.

And that I can’t drive myself away from me.  


Violence denies that I am fighting against an illusion that I myself have created with my own thoughts. That I am fighting against a story I believe in; a story that, because of my belief in it, will never go away. 


Because I am the big projector that is projecting this story over and over and over again, first in my own mind and then externally – even when, and perhaps especially when, I resist it. 


Violence is the thought that darkness must be expelled. 


In reality, we must recall that without any force, with just the power of sight, the thought will dissipate and the light that was already there will shine brightly and with incredible power. 


Violence doesn’t know that a focus on evil, lacking and emptiness actually creates further evil, lacking and emptiness. That this is the reason wars lead to more wars, to fear and to death. Wars don’t lead to peace. Ever. 


Violence is a sign of ignorance.  

Therefore, rather than attempt to defeat it, we must abstain from it.     


When we attempt to defeat it, we end up increasing it. We feed the thoughts telling us that there is no option other than blunt force and control. 


When we become like this, as we are now, it is a wakeup call. It is time to contemplate our beliefs and world views, to know that we cannot hurt another without hurting ourselves. When we learn about ourselves and what triggers us to act, we can create a different reality. In this way, we can live our true nature and not the story that we have become so used to telling about ourselves and the world around us. 


When we do this, the violence around us also lessens. 




Despair is the place where expectations cease and hope dies, where there is no longer room for thoughts, not even for fear, because fear only comes when you think that you have an impact or are capable of having an impact. 


And that is all there is. There is no longer any movement towards something or against anything. Surrender. Darkness. Haze.


This is where I end. This is where the thought ends. And this is where the new may now begin. 


A new game has begun to reveal itself. Now you know that you may only look at yourself and that you may only turn to yourself.  

Not because others are incapable, but because the only person to whom you have access is you.   


So find a place where you can sit and listen quietly. 


And then just be. It’s okay if you need to cry a little, at first. You can even yell if you need to. Don’t be afraid at any anger that might arise. But also make sure not to dwell in it. Don’t do that to yourself. Allow yourself to pass through it.


And then listen for the newness. It is right there. 


You just need to get used to it. Adjust the dial until you are able to tune in to the new frequency. The rest will be self-explanatory.  


Despair is akin to saying, “Today is the last day of my old life”. 


And unlike the interpreting mind with its language of finality and absoluteness, the true self – my real, quiet, tranquil, whole and complete nature – will gaze at this frenzy of fear and despair. 


And it will not move. It knows that there is nothing that must be fixed. There is nothing that must be changed, moved or hoped for. 


Despair is a thought that rests. 


The self looks at the thought as it rests and recognizes it. Knows it. And loves it enough to let it die. 




Pain is not a feeling. We have confused ourselves into thinking that it is. But it’s a sensation. Pain, which includes both physical and emotional pain, is opposition. It is friction. It is saying “no”. It is pushing away or against, like turning our backs on a three-meter high wave. 


Pain does not come from circumstance. It lives in thought. 


Pain lives in the thought that something or somebody can hurt me or cause me to lose something or get lost myself. That something external can darken me or extinguish me, even kill me. It is the thought that things aren’t “meant” to be like this. That I am not “meant” to be exactly as I am. 


The fear that accompanies pain stems from the thought that it will never end. 


Pain is a testament to the thought that we are the effect of something external, even fate – something that is completely out of our control and from which there is no way out. Pain comes to awaken; it comes to hone and to clarify; it comes to take off masks. Pain introduces me to my infinite ability to create reality from my own thoughts. 


Only I can cause myself pain, through my own thoughts; yet I persist in believing that people and circumstances are what cause me pain. 


Pain is meant to awaken us from this misunderstanding, from this thought that something might be lost. Nothing can be lost. It is the Law of Conservation of Energy. And it is interesting to think about what else we might see, hear and know if we just remember that it is only the pain and the objection to pain that are blocking us from understanding that everything is always right there, even if we can’t see it or conceive of it. 




There is a fundamental difference between pain and suffering. Pain refers to the feelings and sensations that are experienced when something happens and we oppose it. Friction leads to pain. Suffering is the result of our identification with pain – our attachment to it.  


Vulnerability is not pain. Pain is a potential gate to that which can be found beyond the conceivable, the familiar and the known. Vulnerability is holding pain, believing in it and embracing it. 




The source of sorrow is in possessiveness. Of what I had and lost.  


Sorrow is an opportunity to encounter the illusion that something might be taken from me. That something might be lost – including non-tangible qualities like happiness, wholeness, security and love. 


Throughout the course of life, we experience difficult and painful situations. We encounter injustices, suffering and abuse, and we cry out, begging for it to stop, for something to change. Our sorrow over such things and about the reality that they create is natural and very, very human. The question that we must ask ourselves is: When these things happen to us, what happens to the love that is us? To the beauty that is us? To the power that is us? 


The answer given will absolutely determine the reality that we will go on to create through our actions. 


There is something complete about sorrow. 


Sorrow breaks the heart so that there will be room for spirit, for motion, for mystery, for the act of being to occur. Sometimes, by focusing on pain and resisting what is coming, we impede pure sorrow from doing what it is meant to do, from showing us whatever we are meant to see through it. There are some things that can only be seen through sorrow.

Pain tempts. Sorrow – is. 


There is a type of sorrow that is deep. It is a feeling that is pure; and if you don’t resist it, it will be accompanied by compassion, relaxation, relinquishing of control, and releasing expectations of control. 

It is accepting. It is acceptance. 


There is also such a thing as world suffering. A collective sorrow. It is not just mine. It is everyone’s. And it feels bigger than me. It is overwhelming and overpowering.  

This is real. This exists. This is how the world is.  


It can lead to pleasure. To a deep connection with the essence itself. When we are in it, just like that, we’re completely immersed, motionless.