When I was in high school, my friend John Shepley introduced me to Bob Marley. It was intoxicating: the rhythm, the feeling that I was dabbling in some black magic, the secret truths and the ganja- well everyting about Bob Marley smacked of liberation. Appropriately enough.
Tonight at the pub, he was playing over the loudspeakers and I heard his truth again:
My fear is my only courage.
Think about that for a minute.
In my current situation, my fear of repeating my same mistakes, my fear of facing the day where I will say: what if I had given more of myself, my fear of slipping into a jaded existance have all motivated me to have the courage to forge a path that I have not forged before.
I find myself stopping- reconsidering, thinking through things - in ways I have not done before.
It is refreshing - and when my love says: slow down and tell me what you need to say. I'm not going anywhere - I want to understand what you are saying.... I feel beautiful and valuable and well, I feel ways I have not felt before.
There has been passion before- the electricity and chemistry which as I have grown older, I realize is more infatuation and lust than actual love. I like passion, don't get me wrong, but it can get in the way of actually SEEING the person before you as a person, not just an illusion-filled object of your affection.
This is something smoldering. You know how a banked fire keeps the embers lit and warm overnight, offering the assurance of continued fire tomorrow? That is what this feels like.
It has been over 20 years since the man I was with was a grown-up: someone able and willing to take care of himself and his needs while protecting and providing for me. I've been waiting a long time, and whether this is permanent or just for now, I have decided to let my fear boost my courage and go down this new path.
No crying is nice for a change.
