“It’s something black… I don’t really know its name.”
I tried to hold my laughter in front of the screen but failed, miserably.
That was after you told me that you feared butterflies with your life.
You said that the hairy texture of their wings is a hell of a sight to behold. Resting or flying — they’re hideously scary. You can’t even stand to look at a photo of it. And there was this one time when your family bought you to a butterfly park: everyone went in except for you.
I suppose all those evolutionary years of us as humans: from running away from poisonous snakes to running away from responsibilities, have had fears drilled into us, naturally or otherwise.
Today I fear the fear most people do: uncertainty.
Where do I go next? What am I going to work as? Should I take this, or that, job? What if I cannot find a place where I can give my best to? Is it just me or I am being a bloody picky arse right now? Maybe I’m just paranoid. Maybe it’s just anxiety in the face of an open-ended road.
Herein reveals my greatest irony: I am an advocate for improvisation, and yet, look at this tangle of thorns.
Such an odd way to kickstart a blog, one might think. But what I have learned were the reasons to why I am doing it this way:
“This is the world we live in. We live in a vulnerable world. And one of the ways we deal with it is we numb vulnerability…here’s grief, here’s shame, here’s fear, here’s disappointment. I don’t want to feel these. I’m going to have a couple of beers and a banana nut muffin… When we do that (numb vulnerability) we numb the other half of our emotions. We cannot selectively numb our emotions.” — Brené Brown
This is why I write again, for without it all I can do is to keep everything to myself, numbing it, only to throw everything onto an unsuspecting friend when things cross the threshold (boy that is unhealthy). Or, if I get lucky, I get to sit down with a friend and talk about it for lengths.
So here’s to stories. More stories. Observations. Reflections. Documentations. Progress. Work Process. Da da dah…
Finally, consider this my belief if you will (perhaps even make it yours):
It is our inability to be with one another, our fear of crying with one another, that gives rise to so many of the problems we are frantically trying to solve in the first place, from Congressional gridlock to economic inhumanity… I’m talking about an audacious authenticity that allows us to cry with one another, a heroic humility that allows us to remove our masks and be real.” — Dan Pallota
Strength through vulnerability.
ps: cockroach turns into my fear when it flies.