Fear. Less. Disconnecting the word is the only way I can make sense of this week's prompt. Because I must admit to you that I'm consumed with fear these days. And writing/reading all the platitudes about conquering your fears and taking risks and diving in with both feet will fall on deaf ears here at the Byline.
Rough words from me, I know. Writing is usually the way I work myself out of fears, my method of rising above the things that frighten me. But I've sunken into a fear-full pit lately, and not even words (my weapon of choice for all life's dilemmas) can offer me the leg up I need to pull out.
"At the risk of sounding like an old fogey," my mother (who just turned 81 but prides herself on "thinking young") said the other day as we were driving to the market, "I do believe the world has gotten itself into the worst mess I've ever seen."
Well, I do believe she's right. Countless businesses closing every day, homes and companies being lost to foreclosure right and left, while prices for necessary consumer goods continue to rise exponentially. Health care costs soaring, making even basic medical treatment unaffordable. People living longer and longer, but with deteriorating quality of life, spending their life savings to be warehoused in institutions. And war, dragging on forever, costing young men and women their lives, and costing this country trillions of dollars.
It's a mess.
And it makes me fear full.
So, on this second Sunday in April when winter seems to have returned once again, snow flurries falling from leaden grey skies, I would dearly love to fear less. I want to stop being afraid about the falling equity in my home(s), the rising prices at the gas pump, grocery, and drug store. I want to stop being afraid about growing older, about dementia and cancer and bone disease. I want to stop being afraid this war will not only continue, but will escalate into additional conflict.
I want find a way to fear less.
How about you?