New. Change. Fear.

I’m not sure where I thought I would be. There wasn’t a checklist I made when I turned eighteen on who I was going to be ten years later. Something doesn’t fit with this imaginary plan hovering like a ghost above my head. In the middle of the night its as if I am the only audience to the world. Staring out my bedroom window at four in the morning calmed by the stars who feel like old friends. We have sat in this same bright darkness together in comfortable quiet on many occasions. Tonight I feel change taking place without me… I know its time. My nemesis and my greatest ally. Change will move forward feet planted firmly in the desert sand with its head down carrying its burden on its back towards the new. Do I go quietly or make a scene? If I choose to fight I will be walking with bound hands and tattered clothes staggering behind Change. If I go peacefully I’ll have to let go of the comfort of Fear. Being afraid has been such a comfort -it lets me shake my blond curls as I nod “no” with arms crossed and regress back to five years old again. How did I grow up and still manage to bring Fear this far with me? Letting go of fear and accepting change… the battle is on!