Fear and Grace

I have been feeling like this blog is somewhere in between a void and nowhere.

  When I write, though the numbers tell me some have perused my words, I don't know who.
  It is so entirely impersonal.
  I believed that I couldn’t share my deepest thoughts or feelings with total
  strangers...

Having reached this realization,

  I stopped writing all but the most inconsequential drivel.  
  I haven't written, really, since arriving here,
  but to tell the events and passings of the days.

I feel the need, now, to write.


And, I am intrigued with writing into the nothingness,
  curious about the strangers who may pass by,
  wondering if there is life out there beyond the cold,
  impersonal  touch of this keyboard and the blank screen  staring back at me.

I’ll take the risk and speak honestly,

  in part because I want to write and this is a blank page,  
 but also because I wonder if there are others out there
 who feel these things, struggle to find meaning,
 strive to live in that meaning,
 and wonder,
 ever, 
 if they took the wrong path.

Read only if you wish to hear real,

  touch deeply, and perhaps
  sense your own soul  in the words I share.

What lies heavy on my heart

  is fear.

It has been with me for some days now,

  creeping upon me in the dark of night,
  swallowing my dreams and leaving black emptiness.

And then that ruthless and unrelenting mistress of my ruin returns

  to bear upon my soul all my failings,
  to shout the idiocracy of my dreams,
  to remind me, once again, that I am aging,
  to laugh bitterly at the opportunities lost,
   the foolishness of my pursuit,
   and the vulnerability of my person.

Of late, she adds to her repertoire the suggestion that

  perhaps my carefully laid plans and work to prepare me to
  follow this dream were, in fact,
  wrong.

I am frightened,

  aware of my total aloneness in this life,
  frightened that, perhaps, I made the wrong decisions,
  that I don’t have what it takes to walk this path,
  that the offerings I bring to bear are not needed,
  not wanted.

When I can quiet myself, I hear whispers…

'Take a breath;

  walk;  
  remember yoga and its healing power;
  give yourself time;
  create a sacred space.’

‘You have come this far.

  Don’t stop now.
  Be present.
  Give it a chance.
  You have dreamed of this since you were a child.
  You just started.  You just started.’

All that sounds too hard.

  I don’t feel well, I don’t have the energy.
  I want to curl up into a ball and sleep,
   hide in a movie,
   stay in my room,
   sleep, sleep.
  That sounds good.
  That sounds like what I need, want.

‘It is true.

  There are many things you are not, and can never be.
  But, it’s not over yet.
  You dared to dream.
  Dare now to stand on the path you forged.
  Look around you,
  breath the air,
  touch what lies before you.


'Ask what you have to share in this moment
   and then offer it.
  It is that simple.
  Allow it to unfold.
  Allow.’

And, if I’m wrong?

  If I can’t find a place?
  If I don’t have what it takes?
  If there isn’t any value to what I offer?
  If my body fails me?

What then?

What then?!

I don’t have an answer to these questions.

  Even pondering them brings up more fears,
   like that of being a failure,
   of not being able to provide for myself,
   of being a failure…oh right, I said that already.

Those of you who know me, know that I’ve

  asked these questions many times in many ways.

Always, that wise part of my soul

  seeks to counsel me, comfort me, guide me,
   show me wisdom.

Always the child wants to run and hide,

  or scream and shout,
  or blame others
  or be the victim…

But, mostly she wants love and safety.

We all have our own path,

  that which can be walked by no other.
  So, in a very real sense, we are all alone in this journey.

And, we each carry within us the beast that wants to drag us into the abyss.

  But, we also carry the grace within us to love and tame the rampages of that beast;
   to reveal it for what it really is,
    a frightened child;
   and to find peace, even if only temporary,
   within our war torn souls.

I pray for peace for my self tonight,

  and for all those who
  feel the burning in their stomachs,
  the tears on their cheeks,
  and the hunger of their souls
  when they read these words
  and feel them as their own.