In my dream, I am perched high on what looks like a diving platform. It slopes downward enough that I slide, sit down, and grip the sides, looking down, appreciating the fact that if I fall, the ground is quite a ways down, and I can do some serious damage if I lose my grip.
This is what waking life feels to me lately. Vertiginous is a good word. I live life bravely on the outside, but fear assails me in my dreams. So that when I wake, my first instinct is to pull the covers over my head.
Not very brave. Not even close.
The covers come off, because I know pulling them over my head isn't going to make those things I fear go away. They will only sit out there and wait...they have nothing but time on their collective hands. It's like going up that rock wall a few weeks ago; the fear is there, but I need to work/walk/play through it.
It tires me out. But necessity compels me.
So today, I declare myself thankful for the seemingly bottomless well of strength that I have to keep going. Some days, I feel I have exhausted all my resources. But on those days, I have the help of my friends and my family, on whose backs and shoulders I lean until I can muster up enough strength to keep going on my own.
I am all that we are. And I am thankful.
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