I hate horror movies. I get really scared, and I don't want to

Gather close, children of the future, and listen to the words of a man who has shared his heart's deepest fear. Callum Turner, a person like many of us, once spoke of his feelings toward horror movies: "I hate horror movies. I get really scared, and I don't want to be scared. I don't know why, but I'm one of those people who gets frightened and can't go to sleep." These words, though simple, carry a deeper truth about the human condition—the reality of fear and the choices we make in confronting it. Turner’s confession is not one of weakness but of wisdom, for he shows us the power of fear and the importance of knowing what we can and cannot bear.

Throughout the ages, humans have always wrestled with fear. In the ancient world, fear was seen not as something to be ashamed of, but as a natural and often necessary part of life. The ancient Greeks understood fear well. Homer’s warriors in the Iliad and Odyssey were often driven by fear, yet their courage was found in how they faced it. Fear, they knew, could either cripple or empower, depending on how one chose to confront it. Turner’s words, while focused on something as seemingly trivial as a movie, speak to this deeper truth: fear, when unacknowledged or uncontrolled, can keep us from finding rest, from embracing peace, much like the warriors who could not find solace on the battlefield after their encounters with terror.

Consider the tale of Hercules, the greatest of the Greek heroes, who was tasked with completing twelve labors, each one more terrifying than the last. Though he was a man of incredible strength, he was not immune to fear. The Nemean Lion, the Hydra, and the Erymanthian Boar were creatures that would have frightened even the bravest of warriors. Yet, Hercules understood that his true strength did not lie in the absence of fear but in the bravery to confront it, to push forward despite the terror that gripped him. In his greatest labors, fear was not erased but transformed into the very energy that drove him toward victory. Turner’s struggle with fear—his unease at the idea of being scared—reveals that there are times when we must acknowledge fear, even if we cannot conquer it immediately.

In this, children, there is a lesson for us all: fear is not the enemy. It is our response to fear that defines us. Turner, like many of us, experiences the paralyzing effect that fear can have, where it seeps into our mind and haunts our sleep. Yet his wisdom lies in his recognition that not all fears need to be confronted head-on. Just as Hercules chose to face his fears only when necessary, so too must we learn when it is wise to face our fears and when it is better to step away. There is no shame in walking away from the frightening or the unnerving, for sometimes the most courageous act is to recognize what is not meant for us, what might disrupt our peace, and to choose not to engage with it.

But let us also remember, children, that fear, while it may cripple us, also teaches us about our limits and our boundaries. Horror movies, as Turner admits, may not be the source of enlightenment, but they reveal a truth that all must face: not all experiences are for us. There are things that we cannot bear, and to engage with them might lead to unnecessary suffering. The world is filled with challenges, and not all of them are meant to be conquered in the traditional sense. Just as a warrior knows when to retreat, so too must we know when to step back from that which does not serve our growth or peace.

The tale of the philosopher Diogenes offers an interesting contrast to Turner’s reflection. Diogenes, known for his disregard for convention and his disdain for fear, would often sit in the marketplace with wild abandon, laughing at the world’s anxieties. To him, fear was a societal construct, something that held power only because people allowed it to. Yet, even Diogenes, for all his courage in the face of societal norms, was not immune to the discomforts of life. He too had his moments of vulnerability, his own fears of being without shelter or care. Turner’s honesty about his fears speaks to this deeper understanding: that to be human is to know fear and to face it with a balance of strength and wisdom.

Children, let this be your guiding principle: do not deny your fears but acknowledge them. There is no shame in walking away from what frightens you, just as there is no weakness in choosing not to engage with certain things. True courage lies not in the absence of fear but in your ability to choose when to confront it and when to let it pass. Like the heroes of old, like Hercules, and like Diogenes, we must recognize that fear is a part of life, but it is only through understanding it—not through denial or avoidance—that we can live our lives with clarity and peace. Embrace your fear, but do not allow it to rule you. Just as Turner’s words remind us, peace and rest come not from conquering all fears but from understanding which ones are worthy of our attention and which ones are best left behind.