My fingers are creaking. Creaky fingers. It has been a while. Yes, it has…
I’ve been getting scary e-mail. Not the kind that makes you wonder what’s wrong with the world or that makes you think it’s wise to send your bank account information to some dude promising you millions of American dollars if you just claim your prize. I’m talking about the kind of scary that has you looking over your shoulder. The kind that gives you reason to hesitate before going out in broad daylight. The kind that settles in with you at night, under the bed.
What was that sound? Who’s watching me? What’s in my mind?
That, my friend, is the Universe. And you better be scared because when you make a tiny crack of a space for her to reveal herself to you and move on in, you’re done for. It’s over. Your hers. Or his. Or His. Whatever. You get the point.
That’s the kind of scared that starts these creaky fingers moving again. It’s the kind of scared where you set things in motion that may or may not lead anywhere, that may or may not open opportunities, that may or may not…lead to change. See what I’m talking about? S-C-A-R-Y. Scary.
The destination isn’t scary. What’s scary is the prospect of lifting oneself up from the big, comfy couch of life and shuffling feet out the door, on some new adventure, and not just down the hall to the potty.
Oh, how I have missed you creaky fingers and scary e-mail…
Illuminate Possibilities 