Fear of G‑d (יראת שמים, yirat shamayim) is a very liberating mitzvah.
Think of it this way: Two forces set the stage for your act upon this earth: Love and fear. The smallest things in life are those you love and fear the least; the big things, those you love and fear the most.
With love, you set your goals. With fear, you set your boundaries. One who fears failure is bound to take no risks. One who fears others is banished from his own self. One who fears life has no room to breathe.
The Torah liberates us by declaring there is only one thing to fear—not failure, not others, not even death itself. The only thing to fear is the One who stands beyond and yet within all things, the one we call G‑d.
Sometimes the word "awe" is a more apt description; sometimes the word "wonder." In all these forms of fear, however, there is one common thread: The awareness of a reality beyond your own that defines and directs all you do. In that way, each form of true fear of G‑d is an escape from the bounds of your own ego to become absorbed within a greater whole—an escape that the greatest love cannot provide. For love is a commentary on the nature of the one who loves, whereas fear, awe and wonder are exclusively about the One who is feared.
What if you don't have that sense of wonder, or even awe, or even fear? You can make time each day to ponder your relationship with G‑d, to become acutely aware of His awesome and loving presence. Once that awareness finds a fixed place in your heart, all you do will fall in place, with joy and pleasure. You will be free.
Fear = abandonment?
Think of when we were children and were separated from our parents, as the essayist ponders. That wasn’t awe. It was fear of being separated from those who protected and loved us.
As we mature, we “test” our parents, and our love from them, thinking we are ok on our own, thinking perhaps we no longer need their love to help us get over our egoistic fears.
While it’s a delicate balance to learn how to survive by ourselves, our lives’ meanings diminish because of our survivalist egoistic tendencies. We soon come to realize and focus less of ourselves, and more about how we can serve and take care of our parents.
Our early fears eventually blend into love.
Life is peaks and valleys. The best is when we learn to realize, accept, and as mortals “see” the true meaning of fear and love we have for Hashem and our parents. Becoming needed rather than needy. How much more pleasant would our world be? Tikkun Olam! Moshiach now!