Our old friend fear and you and me

If we are to believe the teachings of the fictional Jim Cunningham, the basis upon which all actions, thoughts and behaviors can be tied to one of two core emotions- fear and love. Donnie protests this simplification of the spectrum of human emotion, when it is used as a benchmark to morality and ethics, but consider some of the pivotal choices that have altered you throughout your life and ultimately there is truth to be found here.

Decisions. The weighing of pros and cons, loss and gain, future and past. When it comes time to commit yourself to a choice, do you not consider your fears, do they prevent you from taking a risk? Are you not more likely to make a step in the wrong direction while blinded by love? And, more specifically, when you know you've made a bad choice for love in the past, does your fear of vulnerability not inhibit you from achieving clarity of mind when faced with a new choice?

My specialty seems to be making the best of my bad choices. I seem hell-bent on making the same mistakes over and over again, even though the variables may be totally different, the general concept is the same. My fears always seem to sneak up on me after it's too late, after the decision is made and I've got no choice but to sink or swim. Sinking seems so easy, I know how easy it is.

Knowing I can offer so much is a detriment. It means I give freely, in hopes that someone will turn up who wants to give as much as I do. A kindred spirit who can see the clean honesty of what I'm giving and reciprocate. I've been lucky to find my English Muffin, and to have had her all to myself for so long, but I left her behind to find myself and now I'm responsible for there being no hand to hold, nothing under my feet but the depths, and I have to find my own strength and my own reasons to keep going.

At this stage, everything is on autopilot. I wake up and do what is expected, and find little pleasure in the days and little comfort in the night. I write and write, hoping that untangling all of these thoughts and arranging them will reveal some sort of glowing epiphany, like hunting for clues in a one-woman scavenger hunt. The best intentions of those on the other side of the wall fall on my shoulders like sacks, their weight pulls me down further. The recognition that I should be comforted by these kindnesses makes me feel indebted, and like I'm somehow falling short. I'm frustrated by my inability to absorb this comfort. I understand that it's genuine, I believe that it comes from care and concern, but I insist on carrying the load myself for reasons I can't verbalize.

I'm not ready to move forward, I need to give this hurt time to heal. I need to feel it and learn everything I can from where my decisions have brought me. This is not regret, or shame. I can still justify every choice I've made to myself. But if my understanding of consequence was where it needed to be, I wouldn't be perpetuating this cycle.

So here's to my abundance of love- may the well never run empty, may I continue to have more love to give than the ones I care for can consume. May I learn to guard my heart closer, and mete out my trust so that love remains pure and clean.

And to my fears, I pray I can give them the validation needed to overcome them, but maintain a healthy respect for their existence. May I attribute these lessons to the betterment of my soul, and learn when to accept my fear as justified and when to brave the unknown and push my limits.

Cheers.
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