Fear or Shame?

When I asked my poet friend, who returned to the homeland for good after living in exile for twenty years once his sentence was lifted, "How did you find the country?" he shared many observations, but the one that touched me deepest was this: "I cannot bear to look into the eyes of the dogs; they are the ones who have come to know human nature best—their eyes are full of terror and agony."

A vast number of people know how close I live alongside animals. It was not always this way. Regrettably, I suffered a major trauma at the age of seven, which left me with a phobia of animals. I would shudder at almost any living creature that moved. I felt as though they were going to attack. At the same time, I felt deep shame because of this fear. I couldn't bring myself to visit close family members who lived with cats and dogs; if I did go, I felt ashamed of the discomfort I caused. But I couldn't help it. Years passed this way. Then one day, Pasha—our very first cat—came to live in our home due to a particular circumstance. Pasha had deep blue eyes and fluffy, bright yellow fur. He was incredibly sweet. Yet, I was terrified even of his tiny body. Over time, I confronted this fear and completely overcame it. To the extent that my parents now have two cats and a dog, and there are five cats in my own home. The number of animals in our households has surpassed our immediate family.

During the years I feared animals, the only emotion I felt deep down was shame for being unable to conquer it. I never once let the thought of harming them cross my mind. On the contrary, without any professional help, I confronted this phobia for years until I overcame it—and eventually, this immense affection that bloomed within me touched many other people, leading them to share their homes with animals too.

They say humans harm what they fear. I am afraid of humans, yet the thought of harming them never entered my mind either. No matter how much kindness I offered, it backfired on me. The blows have been endless, but I conquered my rage on my own; I chose to wish for their well-being, hoping never to hear bad news about anyone. It was not easy. Times were immensely difficult, yet they passed... Then again, what doesn't pass in this life? Everything does. Just like us. We will pass too. Perhaps it is precisely this reality that we forget most as we live.

Whether it killed it or not, recently we all watched footage of someone striking a kitten over the head with a brick. Was he so utterly terrified simply because a kitten entered his shop hoping to get a scrap of meat? I do not know. The person I watched didn't even appear frightened. So, how could he turn so monstrous in a single second? And is it only him? We have become people who live as if on the verge of a collective madness at any given moment. It is plain to see how we arrived at this state, yet what we are doing to alter it remains a mystery. The state of the world is wretched, but are we not adding fuel to the fire ourselves?

For instance, recently at a site where feeding takes place, you could count the ribs of a dog that had been left behind—I say left behind, my tongue hesitates to say discarded; it was starving once more. Tell me, is it fair for so many souls to go hungry while mountains of food are thrown into the bin in big cities? Is this what befits a human being—discarding both the living soul and the food!

We finish our days by constantly doing something; no one has the slightest intention to pause for a moment. For my own part, I grow immensely exhausted at times. There are beautiful reasons behind my exhaustion, yet I cannot help but ask, is this truly what life is? Another year is drawing to a close. For years, I haven't cared for special occasions; I do not like them. A mountain of unnecessary rush and spectacle. This year, I will be on stage. A place I love. I will highly likely sing songs that make my heart ache once more. I am anxious. I feel a deep shame just living while witnessing all this malice. I will not offer hollow well-wishes, because I am not one for easy comfort; I will resist until the very end of my days to act and to make a difference. Happy New Year!