Free The Secret Letters of the Monk Who Sold His Ferrari by Robin Sharma Page B

said. “Most people are okay until the place empties. They don’t really want to be alone with their thoughts down here, the way I am each day. But you know, we grow fearless by doing those things we fear.” He patted his pockets and pulled out a small tin. Lifting the lid, he offered me a candy. I shook my head, and he popped one in his mouth before settling the tin back in his pocket. “As a very young boy, I lost my father,” he said. “Everything I knew about him was from the past—perhaps that’s why I became so interested in history, in archives. But the sight of him in his coffin haunted me for years. Haunted me. When this job opened up, I thought, No, no working with bones, with the dead. That’s the last thing I want to do . But then I realized that it was precisely becauseI feared the dead that I should take this job. It has been,” he laughed, waving his hands around, “liberating.”
    Then he leaned forward and stared at me. “Are you feeling better?” he asked. I nodded.
    “Oh,” he said then, as if remembering something. “Here.” He handed me a small parcel and a square of folded parchment, like the one Ahmet had given me in Turkey. “I have to continue working,” he said. “But I know you won’t mind leaving me now, will you?” I shook my head and attempted a smile, a little surprised at the brevity of the meeting I’d traveled so far for. We both stood up. “I think you can find your way out,” Antoine said. He moved toward the metal barrier and pointed down the dimly lit tunnel. “That way,” he said. “Just follow the tunnel and don’t go down any of the offshoots that are fenced off. I’ve asked Jean to leave the door open so you can let yourself out.”
    I had pocketed the package and the parchment. “Thank you,” I said, as I moved past Antoine. “Thank you.”
    As I hurried down the tunnel, I heard Antoine call out, “Courage, Jonathan! That’s the only way to live. And remember, bravery isn’t really something you feel. It’s something you show.”
    I moved through the tunnels. The symmetry, the neatness, the intricate arrangement of bones was a relief compared to the raw mess of Antoine’s tunnel. If I hadn’t been so anxious to get out of the tight space, I would have lingered to admire the artistry. Instead, I took deep breaths and reminded myself that the end was just around the corner, or the next one. Eventually, I made my way to the bottom of another stone staircase. I climbed up as quickly as I could, my legs aching slightly from yesterday’s Arc de Triomphe climb. When I reached the top,I moved outside with relief. The fresh evening air was like a blessing. I took several greedy gulps before I headed down the sidewalk toward a bench.
    I lowered myself onto the seat and turned my attention to the small bundle that Antoine had handed me. I peeled back several layers of yellowed tissue paper. At the center of the tissue was a tiny metal skull. The jaws of the skull were parted, making it appear to be grinning at me. Or laughing. That made me smile. I turned the miniature skull over in my hands. Antiqued bronze, perhaps. Or some sort of iron alloy. I took the leather pouch from around my neck and dropped the talisman in. Then I carefully unfolded the parchment.
    Embrace Your Fears was the title. I chuckled. Of course this talisman would be about fear. I continued to read:
     
    What holds us back in life is the invisible architecture of fear. It keeps us in our comfort zones, which are, in truth, the least safe places in which to live. Indeed, the greatest risk in life is taking no risks. But every time we do that which we fear, we take back the power that fear has stolen from us—for on the other side of our fears lives our strength. Every time we step into the discomfort of growth and progress, we become more free. The more fears we walk through, the more power we reclaim. In this way, we grow both fearless and powerful, and thus are able to live the lives