September 29, 2014
I'm in that strange in between place again.
Trying to decide whether I am keeping vigil or running from responsibility.
Right now it is hard to settle down when my brain is doing the slow English country dance... thoughts gently swirling - touching hands briefly, before whirling off on new patterns - glints of this one thought or bright idea catching the light dimly here and there.
I keep thinking there's so much that needs to be done - but I am not moving to do it... and the regret is mainly that it is not doing itself... not that I am not getting it done.
Keep thinking about my grandfather - fading in and out like the light on a lighthouse across dark waters - and hoping that he would find his way home out across the dark expanse of the unknown... beyond the reach of our dim excuse for a shore.
I have this vision of the end of the world gently falling up into the great expanse of the sky.
I can't tell if I'm staying up because I am waiting to see him off...
... or because I am trying to hold onto this day - staving off the busy day of tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that... each day is planned very full...
and deep inside of me I can hear the yearning for rest.
I am happy to send him off - ecstatic...
... almost... envious.
Mainly because I know he is weary - I can feel the weariness in his bones... I have the weariness in mine, but not so well aged.
I have a long, long road yet ahead of me. Many years to add to my current ones... many memories yet to build... many pains yet to soldier through... I have not yet become all my grandfather's grand-daughter will be...
I am still looking forward to that...
... but he is looking forward to home.
And even I, with so much yet to live, can feel the echoing home-sickness that resounds inside of me.
I imagine my hand slipped into his - wrinkled and spotted and still so firm and so strong throughout all the years - and we rest there. We were never ones much for words between us. I discovered somehow at an early age that wonderful gift that some people never learn - the gift of being present... it is a precious gem I hold onto tightly and deeply in my treasure box... bringing it out often to share with someone else who also admires its complexity and beauty and comfort.
I need the present of being right now.
He is about to go on the wondrous journey - and I am the one to be left home-sick on this foreign shore.
There's no use in asking, "Can't I go with you?" Because I know it isn't yet my turn...
... but my heart is asking it anyway.
Stay with me a little longer... Stay up with me just a bit longer... till I can see you home.
I hate that the tears I am shedding are for myself...
That I'm holding you back from your journey because I cannot go.
... Because "Who will I hug when you are gone?"
And there are many, many more hugs I have yet to give and receive and discover...
... but none like yours...
and so few who know this perfect, complete gift of just being.
Being without words... the gift of presence.
Lo... I am with you always... even unto the ends of the earth.
A promise made not just from an Almighty God - but a promise we inherit as His coheirs... his brothers and sisters... as one another.
And already I know and can feel the presence of those who have gone ahead of you - up the edge of that wondrous cliff onto new adventures, into vast expanses, that I cannot fathom or imagine - just a veil of difference that separates my world from theirs - from yours.
I can feel them reaching out and laying hands upon me - wrapping me up and smiling at me - blue eyes and clouded eyes and bright inquisitive black-brown ones - that urge me, encourage me - stand and wave: Daughter... Give him a proper send-off - just as you did with us - and as soon as you do you will find him right here... right there - nestled even closer than ever before.
The Presence of Being right there... right. there. in your heart.
We are never far.
Let me come with you!
Let me cross over, too!
And I know it is the foolishness of my youth.
There is still so much joy and sorrow I have yet to discover - so much life to live as you all have lived.
Wait to hold that little one's hand... Wait to watch their first step... Wait to breathe your book into being... to laugh with your husband... to help him learn and help teach your children this gift of being... wait to accomplish all you have ahead of you... the many days and months and years that not even we know the number of... wait till it is your time.
... and when it is time - we will be there - hands outstretched - to welcome you home.
Wait for us. We will always be waiting for you - with that ever present Now.
Here... now I can sleep.
Let me unpack this beautiful gem in its seedling state right now - to examine its beauty in its infancy...
while it is still so small that I can grasp it...
While it is still so contained that I can hold it in my heart.
Let me hold it close to me - like the gentle fluttering of your heart - so that I can hear its whispers and feel its beats warm and close before I set it free to then envelop me.
I am not yet ready - one moment more... just one moment more...
....
A kiss...
and Ah.
It is set Free.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
September 16: Psalm 3:3
September 16, 2014
I feel tired waking up today Lord.
Brain feels full of a lot of things. A lot of awful things. A lot of tired things. I look at this world - full of austere beauty today - and think of the darkness that hides in our lives. The brokenness - the destitute poverty of our souls. We must all of us look like barren deserts spiritually to You. At least, I feel that way today.
I have time - so much time it feels like - today - but not enough to make a difference.
Start small. Listen carefully. Be open - I hear You say. There is hope yet in the world because my church is still in it. My body is still present. However weak and dim and insignificant a light you feel - all light matters in this world. Even a little bit goes a long way.
1 Cor. 4: 8-13, Ps. 3
I feel beset upon at all sides Lord. The pressures that my life doesn't look enough - doesn't manifest enough - a life in submission to You. My fear that I don't want it to be. I do not want to be destitute in the world. I do not want to be broken and poured out. I see the need of the world Father - But I do not want to be dashed upon it - spilt out for its thirst.
I do not feel like "more than a conqueror" - I feel shut up and afraid of the enormity of the darkness of this world. I feel like holing up. I feel like hiding away.
Psalm 3:3
But You, O Lord, are a shield about me,
my glory, the lifter of my head.
I cried aloud to the Lord,
and he answered me from his holy hill.
Even I sometimes say of myself - there is no salvation for my soul in God
...but salvation belongs to You.
And You sustain me.
To what purpose, Father?! I cry out. Why sustain me? I find strength to get up and continue my life - yet feel I barely manage the small tasks of going shopping - making a home - teaching a swing class.
That is my work today - and yet I drag my feet this morning. I look out at the ocean of humanity and humanity's need and I feel I am a drop. My life smaller than a drop. Smaller than a ripple amongst mighty waves. And I do not know what to do - or how to do more.
The Lord is my salvation -
The lifter of my head -
I cry out and He answers me from his holy hill.
Move forward my child - step by step - move forward on the water. It feels an impossibility today to do the small - and it is - But keep your eyes on me - look full on my wonderful face - and move forward step by step out onto the water. You will do the impossible - You will inspire the faith of others by walking in faith with me. They will see you out on the water and they will join us - and you aren't to worry about them or what difference you make - whether you are a ripple - or a part of a wave - or a wave - your only responsibility is to walk with me. And step by step - we will do the impossible. Don't be afraid. Look to me - the Author and Finisher - The Alpha and Omega - the One who turned the world on its head - who brought life back from the dead - who brought light into darkness - who triumphed in defeat - who conquered death by dying - I am a God of impossible contradictions - improbable paradoxes - and I can save the world while it destroys itself utterly. I can make new what was broken. I can restore the years the locusts have eaten. Look forward - look ahead - look to me - and put one foot in front of the other. I keep my promises - and my promise to you is that in me - your life has meaning. No matter what you do - it carries light. No matter how small and unimportant you feel - to me - you are part of all that I have planned - and I am using you - tiny cog - to turn the cogs of things beyond your imagining in my kingdom - though you may not see it. One foot before the other. One day at a time. Look to me my love - we can do this one step at a time. We can change the world.
I do not know yet if I believe it in my heart of hearts to be true. But the reading today said:
"It is not that conduct is the end of life and worship helps it - but that worship is the end of life and conduct tests it." (William Temple)
Father - test my faith in my life. Refine it and make my worship wholly thine.
Solidify the worship in my life Lord.
I will slip my hand into yours today and begin the small steps of faith that will lead me to beyond where I can stand alone - because I cannot even get out of this shell - out from hidden inside of myself - out of curling into a ball and waiting for me and my life and the world to waste away - I cannot move from here without you my Lord.
But if with You I can move from here - then where else might You take me? Where else might we go? What other impossibilities in my life might You overcome if I am with You?
So here. Call me. I will come. Frightened - even terrified - I will come to You. Do not let me go - hold my eyes - Fill them Father with Your glory - and do. not. let. me. go. You are a shield about me. My salvation. The lifter of my head.
Amen.
I feel tired waking up today Lord.
Brain feels full of a lot of things. A lot of awful things. A lot of tired things. I look at this world - full of austere beauty today - and think of the darkness that hides in our lives. The brokenness - the destitute poverty of our souls. We must all of us look like barren deserts spiritually to You. At least, I feel that way today.
I have time - so much time it feels like - today - but not enough to make a difference.
Start small. Listen carefully. Be open - I hear You say. There is hope yet in the world because my church is still in it. My body is still present. However weak and dim and insignificant a light you feel - all light matters in this world. Even a little bit goes a long way.
1 Cor. 4: 8-13, Ps. 3
I feel beset upon at all sides Lord. The pressures that my life doesn't look enough - doesn't manifest enough - a life in submission to You. My fear that I don't want it to be. I do not want to be destitute in the world. I do not want to be broken and poured out. I see the need of the world Father - But I do not want to be dashed upon it - spilt out for its thirst.
I do not feel like "more than a conqueror" - I feel shut up and afraid of the enormity of the darkness of this world. I feel like holing up. I feel like hiding away.
Psalm 3:3
But You, O Lord, are a shield about me,
my glory, the lifter of my head.
I cried aloud to the Lord,
and he answered me from his holy hill.
Even I sometimes say of myself - there is no salvation for my soul in God
...but salvation belongs to You.
And You sustain me.
To what purpose, Father?! I cry out. Why sustain me? I find strength to get up and continue my life - yet feel I barely manage the small tasks of going shopping - making a home - teaching a swing class.
That is my work today - and yet I drag my feet this morning. I look out at the ocean of humanity and humanity's need and I feel I am a drop. My life smaller than a drop. Smaller than a ripple amongst mighty waves. And I do not know what to do - or how to do more.
The Lord is my salvation -
The lifter of my head -
I cry out and He answers me from his holy hill.
Move forward my child - step by step - move forward on the water. It feels an impossibility today to do the small - and it is - But keep your eyes on me - look full on my wonderful face - and move forward step by step out onto the water. You will do the impossible - You will inspire the faith of others by walking in faith with me. They will see you out on the water and they will join us - and you aren't to worry about them or what difference you make - whether you are a ripple - or a part of a wave - or a wave - your only responsibility is to walk with me. And step by step - we will do the impossible. Don't be afraid. Look to me - the Author and Finisher - The Alpha and Omega - the One who turned the world on its head - who brought life back from the dead - who brought light into darkness - who triumphed in defeat - who conquered death by dying - I am a God of impossible contradictions - improbable paradoxes - and I can save the world while it destroys itself utterly. I can make new what was broken. I can restore the years the locusts have eaten. Look forward - look ahead - look to me - and put one foot in front of the other. I keep my promises - and my promise to you is that in me - your life has meaning. No matter what you do - it carries light. No matter how small and unimportant you feel - to me - you are part of all that I have planned - and I am using you - tiny cog - to turn the cogs of things beyond your imagining in my kingdom - though you may not see it. One foot before the other. One day at a time. Look to me my love - we can do this one step at a time. We can change the world.
I do not know yet if I believe it in my heart of hearts to be true. But the reading today said:
"It is not that conduct is the end of life and worship helps it - but that worship is the end of life and conduct tests it." (William Temple)
Father - test my faith in my life. Refine it and make my worship wholly thine.
Solidify the worship in my life Lord.
I will slip my hand into yours today and begin the small steps of faith that will lead me to beyond where I can stand alone - because I cannot even get out of this shell - out from hidden inside of myself - out of curling into a ball and waiting for me and my life and the world to waste away - I cannot move from here without you my Lord.
But if with You I can move from here - then where else might You take me? Where else might we go? What other impossibilities in my life might You overcome if I am with You?
So here. Call me. I will come. Frightened - even terrified - I will come to You. Do not let me go - hold my eyes - Fill them Father with Your glory - and do. not. let. me. go. You are a shield about me. My salvation. The lifter of my head.
Amen.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Sept 3: In Which I Confess I am Afraid
September 3, 2014
I have a confession to make...
And since this whole blog is called "Daily Confessions of a Christian Woman" - I guess I figured this was as good place as any to confess...
... Or maybe this is my way of fighting back.
My confession is this: I am mortally afraid of failing.
In fact, this might be my biggest fear ever.
At least... it is the fear that I feel I have to face most often and most definitely - the fear that defeats me the most.
It keeps me from a lot of things (like writing) pretty much everyday - because I am mortally afraid that I will fail at writing... because I have no idea what I am going to write... because I have no idea what I am going to do with my life other than write... and I am mortally afraid of failing (most of all) at my life.
There's a lot of other convenient excuses that go along with that (not writing - that is) - the main one being "but I never have time" - because a lot of times the moments when I have the ideas of things to write - it's when I can make convenient excuses like: but what will I write on? (Trust me - I have tried notebooks and minibooks and all sorts of journals and small notepads and any number of paper and pen combinations and they all fail) or - "but I'm in the middle of something else."
Or, as was the case tonight, I should (or have) already climbed into bed - and really - sleep is "necessary" isn't it? For basic life-functioning... like getting up and being productive at a job that actually makes you money.
What really drove me from that cozy spot tonight was the thought that I guess a lot of artists learn to sacrifice sleep to their art...
... or else I'm not quite sure how they do it...
... so I might as well give it a try tonight.
Or maybe it's just that ideas sound so much better when you're half drugged on sleep and it's easier to find the courage to blurt them out and blame them on sleep-deprived brain the next morning...
Maybe it's because in the softer light of night - even the ugliest and clunkiest things take on a beauty and mystery of their own...
... because usually by the next morning it looks a lot less glamorous.
... Things like starting a poorly written blog post about how I'm mortally afraid of failing (especially at writing) ...
And look -
I know it's not just me. I've talked to a lot of other people who follow their passion - whether writing or painting or sculpting or even building their own business or following their dream - and there are a good number of us (not all - some find that blank space, that blank canvas, that unformed lump of clay - that open possibility - exhilarating - tantalizing - exciting - maybe even normal or mundane) - but there are ENOUGH of us - enough so that I don't feel like a complete and total freak (just a little one) - that find that endless expanse of white absolutely terrifying.
So terrifying - that I will (and do) come up with pretty much every excuse not to face it.
Even though that means that I then end up facing my worse fear of all: failure at my life.
Because I've tried a lot of things - honestly - things that I like - things that I even think I could be good at - things like swing dancing, and making pottery, and teaching -- things that I could even arguably see myself becoming much better at than writing if I were willing to put my back into it...
... and the thought of pursuing any of those things for my life sounds nice - but somehow I can't muster up the passion to really truly pursue them to the point of greatness... and I can't tell if it's because I can't muster up enough courage to actually face the fear of failing at any of them... or if it's because they just don't compel me the way writing does.
... the way where it feels like if I don't do this - if I don't write - then I will have failed at my life.
I mean - not doing any of the above would be mini-failures - small deaths - "mini-strokes" so to speak to my life - one alone may not undo me, but not doing several of them could be really seriously deathly to my soul...
... but somehow the thought that at the end of my life I might die without having written a book because I failed at it somehow -
THAT makes me cry.
And yet that fear of failing at it is exactly what makes it so hard for me to write.
And it isn't that it needs to be a book read by anyone, or published, or even a book that anyone but myself cares two cents about it (although all those things would be nice - and if I'm honest - I crave and would crave those things) ... It's just a "book" in the sense - a collection of writing that I can look at and say: "Yes... I did what I was meant to do with this life."
A lot of people reading this (or would - if there were a lot of people reading this) are probably thinking: "Maybe if you would lighten up a little on yourself - you wouldn't be so afraid - and then writing that book would be so much easier"
And it sounds like a pretty simply solution right?
Because really - it's ridiculous to wrap your whole life's worth up into something that may not actually happen... in fact - that could be a very dangerous way of living period.
So what if you don't write a book. Really, there are worse things you could do in life... a lot worse...
So what if you have a happy life - and are a good wife - and a good mom - and even a great teacher/swing dancer/potter/(fill in the blank with something else that I'm missing?) - why ISN'T that enough?
Haven't you been saying to yourself - and everyone else - this whole time that BEING - simply existing is what matters?
That's your whole Cartesian argument right?
"I exist, therefore my existence matters."
... so why the existential crisis?
Your whole argument of faith is that because you believe in Christ - because you believe in a God who loves you - because that love is what defines your identity - that you should not fear... not even failure of living/fulfilling your life.
So then - why afraid?
Why so downcast, oh my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God - for I will yet praise Him
My redeemer and my God
And get this - it's not that I'm afraid that I will fail Him.
Or even that I will fail myself.
More that I will fail.
Just absolutely.
If I don't write.
Maybe a part of it is that it doesn't matter to Him whether I fail or not.
I mean, I couldn't fail any worse than we all (collectively and individually) already have failed to Him... and it didn't change anything for Him then, doesn't change anything for Him now.
So whether I succeed or not doesn't change His love for me.
And that (hypothetically) gives me courage...
and (truly) gives me encouragement...
... but it doesn't mean that I don't still have to face that fear of failure anyways.
Maybe this is what people miss about the Christian faith...
and I say miss because I don't think we're really honest about these things...
It isn't that those struggles that you face - those huge obstacles that you'd really rather turn-about-tuck-tail and run away from - it's not like they just disappear.
It's not like you no longer walk in the valley of the shadow of death -
It's that you still face them... those struggles, those dark times, those valleys, those mountainous obstacles... maybe even more than if you DID run because:
It's just okay if you fail at them...
... And yet you're expected to go at them anyways - 100% - because like I said... Your whole eternal life's worth isn't tied up in whether you succeed at them or not - which sounds great, except that leaves you no excuse not to try. If any man would follow me - he must pick up his cross daily...
We have nothing to fear but fear itself...
It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well have not lived at all - in which case, you fail by default.
I love those quotes... not really because they set me free from my fear of failure like "oh! I have nothing to worry about now - let's go for it!"
... But because I feel like they were spoken by people who really deeply understood the fear of failure... and weren't saying "GO AND TRY" as though it were some light undertaking - like all you had to do was just try hard to succeed - but because they understood the struggle of facing those fears... and because they only reached the points they did - where they said what they could say - because they had practiced the art/battle of facing that fear...
being defeated by it...
failing by fault or default...
and getting up the next day to face it again.
So maybe this is just me fighting back.
In the wee hours of the morning when the cool side of my pillow is beckoning me - and tomorrow will be a longer day because of less sleep - and I am already terrified to go back and have to re-read this - and it would be easier - so much easier not to have even gotten up to try.
But I'm glad I did... because at least today I can say "Well... I've gotten this far... might as well post it up."
And even if the current tally of the day is 1,918,919,184,002,182: Fear and 2: Whitney
(I count getting out of bed a victory on some days)
At least it is 2... and not 0 today.
Does it ever get any easier?
Maybe not... maybe you just build an ability to keep at it...
Or maybe it is just this hard all the time.
All I know is that I need to do this more often.
... Not because I fear failing at my existence... but because I fear failing at really living my life.
Or maybe - if I thought of it more positively...
Not because I fear failing at my existence... but because I love life too much to let it pass me by.
At any rate... I am done for now.
Sleep calls and this time - I'm caving.
Love,
Whitney
I have a confession to make...
And since this whole blog is called "Daily Confessions of a Christian Woman" - I guess I figured this was as good place as any to confess...
... Or maybe this is my way of fighting back.
My confession is this: I am mortally afraid of failing.
In fact, this might be my biggest fear ever.
At least... it is the fear that I feel I have to face most often and most definitely - the fear that defeats me the most.
It keeps me from a lot of things (like writing) pretty much everyday - because I am mortally afraid that I will fail at writing... because I have no idea what I am going to write... because I have no idea what I am going to do with my life other than write... and I am mortally afraid of failing (most of all) at my life.
There's a lot of other convenient excuses that go along with that (not writing - that is) - the main one being "but I never have time" - because a lot of times the moments when I have the ideas of things to write - it's when I can make convenient excuses like: but what will I write on? (Trust me - I have tried notebooks and minibooks and all sorts of journals and small notepads and any number of paper and pen combinations and they all fail) or - "but I'm in the middle of something else."
Or, as was the case tonight, I should (or have) already climbed into bed - and really - sleep is "necessary" isn't it? For basic life-functioning... like getting up and being productive at a job that actually makes you money.
What really drove me from that cozy spot tonight was the thought that I guess a lot of artists learn to sacrifice sleep to their art...
... or else I'm not quite sure how they do it...
... so I might as well give it a try tonight.
Or maybe it's just that ideas sound so much better when you're half drugged on sleep and it's easier to find the courage to blurt them out and blame them on sleep-deprived brain the next morning...
Maybe it's because in the softer light of night - even the ugliest and clunkiest things take on a beauty and mystery of their own...
... because usually by the next morning it looks a lot less glamorous.
... Things like starting a poorly written blog post about how I'm mortally afraid of failing (especially at writing) ...
And look -
I know it's not just me. I've talked to a lot of other people who follow their passion - whether writing or painting or sculpting or even building their own business or following their dream - and there are a good number of us (not all - some find that blank space, that blank canvas, that unformed lump of clay - that open possibility - exhilarating - tantalizing - exciting - maybe even normal or mundane) - but there are ENOUGH of us - enough so that I don't feel like a complete and total freak (just a little one) - that find that endless expanse of white absolutely terrifying.
So terrifying - that I will (and do) come up with pretty much every excuse not to face it.
Even though that means that I then end up facing my worse fear of all: failure at my life.
Because I've tried a lot of things - honestly - things that I like - things that I even think I could be good at - things like swing dancing, and making pottery, and teaching -- things that I could even arguably see myself becoming much better at than writing if I were willing to put my back into it...
... and the thought of pursuing any of those things for my life sounds nice - but somehow I can't muster up the passion to really truly pursue them to the point of greatness... and I can't tell if it's because I can't muster up enough courage to actually face the fear of failing at any of them... or if it's because they just don't compel me the way writing does.
... the way where it feels like if I don't do this - if I don't write - then I will have failed at my life.
I mean - not doing any of the above would be mini-failures - small deaths - "mini-strokes" so to speak to my life - one alone may not undo me, but not doing several of them could be really seriously deathly to my soul...
... but somehow the thought that at the end of my life I might die without having written a book because I failed at it somehow -
THAT makes me cry.
And yet that fear of failing at it is exactly what makes it so hard for me to write.
And it isn't that it needs to be a book read by anyone, or published, or even a book that anyone but myself cares two cents about it (although all those things would be nice - and if I'm honest - I crave and would crave those things) ... It's just a "book" in the sense - a collection of writing that I can look at and say: "Yes... I did what I was meant to do with this life."
A lot of people reading this (or would - if there were a lot of people reading this) are probably thinking: "Maybe if you would lighten up a little on yourself - you wouldn't be so afraid - and then writing that book would be so much easier"
And it sounds like a pretty simply solution right?
Because really - it's ridiculous to wrap your whole life's worth up into something that may not actually happen... in fact - that could be a very dangerous way of living period.
So what if you don't write a book. Really, there are worse things you could do in life... a lot worse...
So what if you have a happy life - and are a good wife - and a good mom - and even a great teacher/swing dancer/potter/(fill in the blank with something else that I'm missing?) - why ISN'T that enough?
Haven't you been saying to yourself - and everyone else - this whole time that BEING - simply existing is what matters?
That's your whole Cartesian argument right?
"I exist, therefore my existence matters."
... so why the existential crisis?
Your whole argument of faith is that because you believe in Christ - because you believe in a God who loves you - because that love is what defines your identity - that you should not fear... not even failure of living/fulfilling your life.
So then - why afraid?
Why so downcast, oh my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God - for I will yet praise Him
My redeemer and my God
And get this - it's not that I'm afraid that I will fail Him.
Or even that I will fail myself.
More that I will fail.
Just absolutely.
If I don't write.
Maybe a part of it is that it doesn't matter to Him whether I fail or not.
I mean, I couldn't fail any worse than we all (collectively and individually) already have failed to Him... and it didn't change anything for Him then, doesn't change anything for Him now.
So whether I succeed or not doesn't change His love for me.
And that (hypothetically) gives me courage...
and (truly) gives me encouragement...
... but it doesn't mean that I don't still have to face that fear of failure anyways.
Maybe this is what people miss about the Christian faith...
and I say miss because I don't think we're really honest about these things...
It isn't that those struggles that you face - those huge obstacles that you'd really rather turn-about-tuck-tail and run away from - it's not like they just disappear.
It's not like you no longer walk in the valley of the shadow of death -
It's that you still face them... those struggles, those dark times, those valleys, those mountainous obstacles... maybe even more than if you DID run because:
It's just okay if you fail at them...
... And yet you're expected to go at them anyways - 100% - because like I said... Your whole eternal life's worth isn't tied up in whether you succeed at them or not - which sounds great, except that leaves you no excuse not to try. If any man would follow me - he must pick up his cross daily...
We have nothing to fear but fear itself...
It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well have not lived at all - in which case, you fail by default.
I love those quotes... not really because they set me free from my fear of failure like "oh! I have nothing to worry about now - let's go for it!"
... But because I feel like they were spoken by people who really deeply understood the fear of failure... and weren't saying "GO AND TRY" as though it were some light undertaking - like all you had to do was just try hard to succeed - but because they understood the struggle of facing those fears... and because they only reached the points they did - where they said what they could say - because they had practiced the art/battle of facing that fear...
being defeated by it...
failing by fault or default...
and getting up the next day to face it again.
So maybe this is just me fighting back.
In the wee hours of the morning when the cool side of my pillow is beckoning me - and tomorrow will be a longer day because of less sleep - and I am already terrified to go back and have to re-read this - and it would be easier - so much easier not to have even gotten up to try.
But I'm glad I did... because at least today I can say "Well... I've gotten this far... might as well post it up."
And even if the current tally of the day is 1,918,919,184,002,182: Fear and 2: Whitney
(I count getting out of bed a victory on some days)
At least it is 2... and not 0 today.
Does it ever get any easier?
Maybe not... maybe you just build an ability to keep at it...
Or maybe it is just this hard all the time.
All I know is that I need to do this more often.
... Not because I fear failing at my existence... but because I fear failing at really living my life.
Or maybe - if I thought of it more positively...
Not because I fear failing at my existence... but because I love life too much to let it pass me by.
At any rate... I am done for now.
Sleep calls and this time - I'm caving.
Love,
Whitney
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