Lafou, I'm afraid I've been thinking.
A dangerous pastime...
And yet--there's the problem, what makes thinking dangerous. The fear. "I'm afraid." Fear paralyzes me, and too often I find myself unable to move.
So many fears: fear of failure, fear of personal disclosure, fear of imperfection, fear of not measuring up, fear of being stuck in a rut, of falling, of pain, of facing myself, of letting go, of not being able to overcome the things I know I need to.
Basically, I'm just scared to death. Scared that people will know who I really am, and yet at the same time that no one ever will. Scared that I won't try, but that no matter how many times I do, I still won't measure up. Scared to grow up and become independent, but too stubborn and scared to be anything but a successful, independent adult. And then again, scared that there's no possible way I can be that.
I don't think many people see this part of me. Janet always called me confident. Christian said in Loch Lomond that I seemed like a "bold and gutsy kinda girl." Christine, my soul mate, who in just a couple short weeks, came to know me as much as anyone else in my whole life (and probably more than myself), told me that she thinks I'm "incredibly strong and courageous." And yet I'm always afraid, afraid of myself and my fears and failure and so many other stupid, STUPID things. I know I shouldn't be, but I'm a fraidy-cat. A paralyzed, stupid fraidy-cat who lets her fears get the best of her.
There are so many reasons I shouldn't be. I don't doubt. I have faith. I know I do. So, I shouldn't fear, right? I know God helps me through and that He's on my side. I don't want to be afraid. But my fears are always there. It takes all I can to work through them, force past them. Is that what courage is? Fighting the battle against your fears and always barely eking out a battle victory, but always losing the war.
I remember Max Hall's eyes as he started that drive in the Oklahoma game yesterday. There was a lot of fear. I could see it, recognize it, because I've felt it--felt the same fear behind my own eyes. Still, he pushed forward, converted on big plays, and in the end, his eyes wore an everlasting smile. In the end, he'll go down in history for defeating the fear and doing his part to win one of the most important and memorable victories in school and conference history.
But when my fears step up to the plate, I seem to turn out more like the 2nd-string OU QB: insecure, unstable, unprepared (even if I'm really very much prepared). Always falling short, that fear never leaving my eyes, because, no matter how much I try to fight through it, I always seem to be rejoicing in someone else's victory and never my own.
I want to be courageous. Not necessarily be completely free of fear, but at least not be paralyzed anymore. At least knock them unconcious for a while. At least just feel like I did on top of Arthur's Seat, so free of fear and cares and woes and everything--true freedom--that freedom of Arthur's Seat for one minute in real life.
K. Rambling again. I wanted to write. So I did. At least that's one thing I'm not afraid to do. Write. Oh wait. Never mind. I sometimes am. And am always afraid for people to read it. Curses. Curses curses curses. And, if you don't count my irrational fear of falling and (sometimes) physical pain, all my fears are emotional. Personal Disclosure. Emotional pain. Abandonment. Failure. Letting others down. Letting myself down. Letting God down. I could face Millificent's Dragon Alter-Ego in Sleeping Beauty, but never get up enough courage to kiss the princess (of course, prince, in my case).
So. Question of my life right now: What is courage? How do I become confident, courageous, bold, gutsy, fearless? (That reminds me of the Taylor Swift song) Why do the things that take those qualities never get any easier, no matter how many times you do them?