some mornings start with fear. i wake anxious. heart pounds. out of breath. looking around. did i miss the alarm? where am i today? what am i supposed to be doing? there’s no difficulty in finding fear. some of our worst decisions are based on it. the difficulty lies in finding it’s root. where is it growing from?
i know where mine is planted. it’s not being late or making mistakes. it’s my fear of not living. and no, i do not mean death. i mean taking in every moment. leaving this place better than i found it. learning from as many people as i can. trying to leave a mark.
some mornings there’s a voice. it’s reminding me of my past. the mistakes, the bad decisions, the pain.
for a brief moment i’m petrified. i have to stop and take a deep breath. then i grab my shovel and start digging. pull up these roots. i dig as deep as i can. as fast as i can. i’m not letting these roots drag me down. i have too many songs in my head. too many words to be written. too many hugs i need to give. too many smiles i need to see. too many meals i need to eat. too much love inside of me.
these roots will always grow back, and they will be tougher to pull next time. but i will not let my life be defined by my fears, rather, define me by how i handle my fears.
reflection in your waking moments should arouse desire.