I’m Scared. Tell me What to Do.

This Halloween, vampires and ghosts aren’t scaring me.

There’s a visceral quality to fear that grips us deeply. Palms sweating, chest tight, a constant knot in the stomach. It’s the kind of anxiety that makes your heart beat just a bit faster, even when you’re sitting still, and there’s an inexplicable feeling that something needs to be fixed, adjusted, controlled. But the scariest part? Often, you can’t pinpoint exactly what’s wrong or how to make it better. This is the experience of living with existential dread, that gnawing sense of something uncontrollable looming over our lives. We all feel it, even if we rarely name it. It’s this undercurrent of fear that drives our need to find order in an uncertain world. We want answers, guidance… anything that offers us some sense of direction.

Death anxiety, or the fear of mortality, is a pervasive, often unnamed force in our lives. Beneath our routines, it’s the one aspect we can never control: our own inevitable end. This anxiety often drives our need for predictability, whether through personal habits or societal structures. It’s why we sometimes reach for security in small routines, in promises from political figures, or even in distractions that help us avoid the deeper questions. When we face our mortality honestly, though, we can find new perspectives on what matters most, uncovering values and connections that guide us through life’s unknowns.

In connection with this, traditions like Halloween and Samhain (a Gaelic festival marking the end of harvest) have long brought death to the forefront of human consciousness. During Samhain, people honoured the dead, acknowledging the presence of spirits as the veil between worlds was believed to thin. Later evolving into Halloween, the festival invites us to confront mortality through rituals and symbols. These practices serve as communal, often playful ways to grapple with death’s mystery, giving us a safe space to acknowledge what we often fear in a supportive and familiar context. I invite us all to contemplate these themes more than one day a year

Halloween is meant to be scary. But to me, fear is often present. Sometimes I know why. Sometimes I don’t. In our modern world, fear isn’t limited to a designated holiday. It’s persistent, woven into the fabric of our lives in both big and small ways.

The world itself feels chaotic and increasingly unstable, with crises unfolding at every turn. The climate crisis, social upheaval, political instability all remind us of just how little control we actually have. And while this background anxiety is larger than any one of us, it fuels a longing for something, or someone, to tell us everything is going to be okay. In this desire for control, authoritarian figures and movements often find a foothold, promising stability, clear-cut solutions, and a sense of protection. It’s easy to see why some people are drawn to these ideals in times of heightened fear, they offer answers in a world that feels answerless.

Yet, this need to control isn’t only political. On a micro level, it shows up in our personal lives, manifesting in the way we try to manage ourselves and our surroundings. Have you ever noticed how fear can lead to an intense focus on routines, whether it’s controlling our diets, monitoring our relationships, or reaching for substances to calm us? We try to distract ourselves from the unknowns of life by zeroing in on what we can control, even if it’s just what we’re putting on our plates or who’s responding to our messages. But these habits don’t necessarily soothe us; they just create more boxes to check, more distractions from the truth that life itself is uncertain.

And there’s another strange form of comfort we turn to: scrolling endlessly through social media. In these moments, we might feel a sense of connection or control, but we’re actually consuming a constant stream of distress, crises, and other people’s chaos. It’s as though we’re voluntarily staring into a distorted mirror, reflecting back all the anxieties and fears of our world. Shows like Black Mirror don’t seem so fictional anymore, and reality itself starts to resemble a series of disconnected, surreal images. We’re lured into a spiral of doomscrolling, searching for answers among pixels, yet ultimately feeling more lost. In the quiet moments, when we put the screen down, those feelings linger—a reminder that despite all our attempts to distract ourselves, the unknown remains.

The urge to escape or control is a natural response to fear, but what if we could approach fear differently? Uncertainty is unsettling, yes, but it also holds potential. While our culture tells us to avoid, stuff down, or ignore fear, it’s possible that allowing ourselves to confront our anxiety might shift something essential. Imagine, for a moment, what it would be like to acknowledge that knot of fear in your stomach instead of trying to unravel it. Rather than immediately numbing or fixing it, you might learn something profound about yourself, about what really matters to you, and about the resilience you’ve built without even realising it.

In times of fear and uncertainty, one of the most powerful ways to soothe ourselves is by connecting with our community and finding purpose in the small actions we can control. Community offers a sense of safety, perspective, and solidarity that is hard to achieve alone. When we join with others, we’re reminded that we’re not isolated in our struggles; that our fears and challenges are shared. In your corner of the world, intentional acts like helping a neighbour, supporting local causes, or creating spaces for honest conversation can bring a sense of agency and comfort. By investing in these small, intentional acts of care, we find grounding, purpose, and a renewed sense of hope that can carry us through uncertainty.

Embracing uncertainty means making room for the grey areas, the “what-ifs” that don’t always have tidy answers. It’s uncomfortable, maybe even scary, but it’s also freeing. When we let go of the need to control every outcome, we open ourselves to possibility, to the unpredictable nature of life, and to the potential for growth. Uncertainty can be generative; it’s like fertile soil where new ideas, relationships, and opportunities can grow. Yes, there’s a risk that things might not go as we hope, but there’s also the possibility that they’ll turn out even better than we could have planned.

In facing these fears, we get closer to understanding our true selves. Fear, after all, is a teacher—it shows us where our deepest vulnerabilities lie and what we value most. When we let ourselves feel the discomfort of uncertainty, we begin to learn what we need to heal and what we truly desire. Instead of simply surviving each day, guided by the autopilot of control, we might find that our fears actually point us toward what’s most meaningful. It’s in the uncomfortable moments, when we’re most vulnerable with ourselves, that we build resilience. And this resilience isn’t about avoiding fear or denying uncertainty but about standing with it and learning from it.

Maybe this Halloween, we welcome the fear. Facing our anxieties won’t magically make them disappear, but it might lead us to a more authentic relationship with ourselves and with life itself. In a world that often lacks clear answers, being able to sit with discomfort and embrace the unknown could be the most powerful skill we can try to cultivate.