FEARESSION – THE ACHE IN THE SOUL

It’s 3 a.m., and you’re awake again. The room is silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock. But inside, there’s a storm—a dull ache just left of your sternum that refuses to let you rest. You shift in bed, trying to find comfort, but it eludes you.

Your mind drifts through the chapters of your life. The accomplishments. The friendships. The moments of joy. Yet nothing offers solace. Instead, a relentless question echoes in the stillness: Why does this ache persist?

It isn’t fear, not entirely. It isn’t depression either. It’s something in between—a strange fusion of dread and melancholy. You might call it Fearession. Perhaps it’s the burden of being alive and aware of the fleeting nature of it all. The knowledge that everything—every triumph, every love, every cherished memory—will eventually slip away.

By day, you wear the mask of someone who has it all together. Your smile is warm, your laughter infectious, and people are drawn to your light. But when the world quiets, the weight of existence settles on you. It’s a suffering that feels woven into the very fabric of being human—a shared thread that even the wisest among us have recognized.

The Buddha said: The first Noble Truth?is the acknowledgment of suffering (dukkha) as an inherent part of life.

Jesus suffered and they called it the Passion of Christ. The word?passion?is from the Latin?pati, which simply means “to endure” or “to suffer.”

St. John Vianney taught about the value of suffering and said, “There are two ways of suffering – to suffer with love, and to suffer without love.?The saints suffered everything with joy, patience, and perseverance, because they loved. As for us, we suffer with anger, vexation, and weariness, because we do not love.”

For years, I’ve felt this ache. It creeps in during moments of failure, isolation, or loss. When my husband of 40 years passed, it became a steady companion. My daughter grew up and moved away, my once-thriving art career began to wane, and I found myself alone with too much time to think.

What could I turn to that would lift my spirit, give me purpose, and offer peace?

For me, it’s Vipassana meditation—a practice that has become my anchor.

Vipassana isn’t just a technique; it’s a way of meeting yourself where you are, no matter how dark the moment. It teaches you to observe your body’s sensations—those tiny flickers of warmth, pressure, or tingling—without reacting. Over time, this simple act of observation rewires the mind. The grip of fear, craving, and despair loosens.

At 3 a.m., when the ache takes hold, I sit up in bed. I wrap myself in warmth and close my eyes. Starting at the crown of my head, I scan my body inch by inch, tuning in to whatever I can feel. The sensation of my hair brushing my skin. The faint warmth on my forehead. The subtle pressure of my weight against the mattress.

With each moment of focused attention, the ache begins to shift. It’s as though the storm inside loses its power to consume me. The mind quiets, and clarity seeps in.

Vipassana has shown me that suffering is not the enemy. It’s a teacher. Through it, I’ve learned that pain itself is not unbearable—it’s the reaction to pain that chains us. The fear of loss, the resistance to change, the grasping at what is fleeting—these are what create the prison.

If you’ve ever felt this ache, this Fearession, I encourage you to explore Vipassana. Attend a 10-day course. It’s a commitment, yes, but one that costs nothing except your time. Taught by volunteers and supported by donations, these courses are a gift to anyone seeking liberation from suffering.

Since my first course in 1984, Vipassana has helped me embrace the impermanence of life. It’s a long journey—I still have far to go—but I’ve found solace in the understanding that everything changes. Even the deepest ache of the soul can dissolve, leaving space for peace, clarity, and freedom.

And so, when the dark hours come, and the ache stirs again, I sit with it. I breathe through it. And slowly, it lets me go.

Heidi Thompson was born in Vernon, British Columbia. In 1974, after graduating high school, she moved to Switzerland to work as an au pair. In her spare time she painted, and her love for art grew stronger.

In 1975 Heidi was accepted into the Kunstgewerbeschule (School of Art and Design) in Zürich. After completing a four-year program, she earned the Swiss Diploma for Professional Photography. Pursuing her passion for painting, Heidi moved to Germany and apprenticed with the artist Oskar Koller. Koller recommended that she continue her education at the Akademie der Bildenen Künste Nürnberg, where she studied Painting for one year.

Heidi then moved to Budapest and studied Painting at the Hungarian University of Fine Art for a year before returning to Vernon in 1982. She set up a studio and worked as a photographer, publisher, teacher and painter. Later she married Edward Thompson, a guitar maker. They lived in Coldstream for 40 years until Edward’s passing away in 2023.

Currently, Heidi paints full time, exhibiting her work in Europe, Canada and the USA. Her paintings have been collected by the Royal Family of Saudi Arabia and the Dupont and Dell families, and are included in the Canadian Senvest Collection. In 2024 she opened the Heidi Thompson Art Gallery in Coldstream, BC, Canada.

Linkedin

Instagram

Facebook

Website

?