There is something magical about snail mail.
I love to walk out to the mailbox and find a piece of a friend's heart wrapped in a paper envelope with my name lovingly written on the outside.
Elizabeth Gilbert said in an interview with Oprah recently that all the questions she gets asked by artists come down to some form of fear. I found these six things helped me move through my own fear and get on with the creating and promoting of my own work. May you find something that helps you manage your fear too.
I reflected on this short conversation later in the day. His words were a double-edged sword. On one hand, most people would agree that it is good to do new things, to challenge yourself, and to forge onwards. On the other, it is also the kind of thing you say about poorly behaved children, “Oh my, they have a lot of energy, don’t they?”
You childhood is already passing so fast, but I don’t know if I can withstand the daily fears of you out in this dangerous world. When I am boxed up, I miss things. The fear of letting go or losing you makes me not want to love you with my whole heart.
Here in rush-hour traffic it hits me: I am all alone in my car. I don’t need to drive you anywhere anymore. In fact, you don’t need me much anymore at all. My work as a mom is done. The sobs drown out the radio and my tears make seeing the road more difficult.
I have spent some of my years chasing things. More money, a better title, a bigger house, a life in a city, and when I achieved all those things, I realized there were still other things I didn’t have. There will always be other things.
I get a terrible feeling when I think about debates. Fear doesn’t describe it well enough. It is more like the feeling you have when you are investigating an odd noise coming from the basement. It is the tingle that runs up your spine coupled with intense curiosity and heightened awareness. You head down the stairs and flick on the light and you just don’t know what to prepare for.
The cool temperatures come again as the sun passes below the horizon. I can see my breath in the twilight. My nose tingles with the crisp air and I pull my hands into the sleeves of my sweater to keep them warm.