3 days left until Lily and I begin our long journey.
Occasionally, although less and less over time, I find myself surrounded by a numbing fog. It’s a conditioned response. I know what precipitates it, now, although it tries to erase my awareness. It billows out, filling spaces, coating my mind, my sensations, silently promising some partial measure of insulation in the face of fear. As if fear is such a terrible thing.
This is what I’ve concluded: I would rather be awake and alive, fear and all. My desire to be fully present in my little, mortal life outweighs any cost of “negative” experiences or “danger.”
I’m not advocating downright foolishness, mind you (although I recognize that there is a wide degree of perception of what constitutes “foolishness”). I just can’t escape the conclusion that the biggest foolishness of all is to allow oneself to be taken hostage by an array of limiting beliefs.
I could have decided that it was safer to stay home. I could have decided, in the name of some other vision of proper parenting and behavior, that Lily would be better off if I had been more quiet, more settled, more domestic, more willing to suck up any frustration I might feel about our lives. I could have claimed a whole pile of virtue chits, patting myself on the back for my “greenness” in not burning gasoline in our little car, driving around the continent (because obviously that’s what’s going to tip us all over the edge of planetary destruction, me, single-handedly delivering the ultimate blow via Toyota Yaris). I could have given up on my Kickstarter campaign before it ever started, or in the middle of making the video (which made me want to claw out my eyeballs), or near the end when I thought it would never work. I could have decided it was just too hard to ask people for money and to spread the word. I could have believed in my own inadequacy more than my potential for greatness.
I could have believed there was plenty of time.
None of that felt like an acceptable option, anymore. Fortunately, I’ve learned that the more I take risks, heed my heart, and push myself a bit further and then further still, the more the fear eases. The fog breaks. None of that is an intellectual exercise. It’s immediate and tangible and real. I prove to myself my own capacities. Sometimes it feels like a sudden leap into the void, one eye squeezed shut and the other nervously peeking out from between my fingers, wondering if I’m as crazy as I feel. Then the updraft hits and I’m airborne.