I'm Sorry

For the longest time, I didn’t know what to say once the Litany of Fear began. I searched for the right response, aware that I should be paying attention to the concern that was pouring forth in front of me. The speaker always voiced concern for my safety. The speech took off from there and I was assailed with all the reasons I shouldn’t do whatever it was I was doing. I might hurt myself. Someone might hurt me. There were financial risks. I didn’t know enough about the situation. I hadn’t really thought things through. The weather might change. Things don’t always turn out as we expect and I could be disappointed. What if I failed? What then?


I sometimes nodded. I’d throw in a few humming sounds occasionally.

I’ve learned not to try to converse during the Litany. The Litany of Fear is not a conversation. It’s a stump speech to try to convince someone not to act. I’m not even sure if it’s directed at me. My hunch tells me it’s directed back at the speaker more often than not.

How do I know this? I’ve been hearing slightly different versions of the Litany of Fear regarding everything from: jobs, travel, running, dating, living situations, automobiles, and assorted other situations for the past ten years. I’m not always the receiver of the Litany. I’ve also witnessed it being preached to others as well.

Here’s what I’ve started saying at the close of the Litany. I think it’s about the best response I can use. It seems to satisfy both of us.

“I’m sorry.”

I really AM sorry. I’m sorry that there is so much fear behind the delivery of the Litany.

Growing up I learned from my many mothers that when I felt sympathy and I couldn’t think of anything else to say, saying “I’m sorry” was enough. My Mother taught me when I was a little girl. I joined a sorority and my housemother gave me lessons in polite society behavior. My Grandmother showed me by example when my mom died.

So now, when I’m faced with someone who (in my perception) is using the opportunity of my situation to express their own fears – but not in a direct manner, I simply say, “I’m sorry.” And then I get on with whatever it was I wanted to do.  If the Preacher of the Litany of Fear perceives that my apology means they've swayed me in some way...so be it.  Amen and Amen.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not as if I’m going to ignore sound advice. If someone suggests that I might be killed, yeah, that will get my attention. I’m just not wearing the heaviness of others’ fears. The weight of my own hang-ups has been plenty enough to carry as I make these decisions.


©Michelle Scofield, June 21, 2012 All Rights Reserved