Worry

This morning I worried about worrying.

When I caught myself, I was driving down a shady road enveloped with green. The morning sun yawned between the tree tops and light escaped into my view making it hard to see the road through my insect stained windshield. Grabbing my iPhone and turning on the memo recorder I worried aloud.

I talked about how I wanted to write a post about the pointlessness of worrying. How not caring about what other people think of me is the surest path to freedom from fear. How I want to develop the muscle of invincibility to other people’s concerns regarding my life path…

On the heels of this thought a bigger more pressing worry wiggled its way into the memo. If I write about this, people will judge me for the post. They probably won’t think I’m being authentic. They’ll think I’m just trying to win sympathy points. Turns out, Even my escape route was filled with land mines.

As much as I write this blog for you to read and enjoy, I write the cathartic effect of self-expression and more importantly, I write to write. Because I have to. ‘To Write’ is the verb that weaves my life into a meaningful pattern rather than a big fat ugly knot.

Back to the worry. I mulled. I imagined the post and tried to start. Inspiration struck elsewhere and instead, I wrote something else. And when I came back to this post I considered again the worry: the fear that you would think I was nuts and judge me for being me.

This time though the land mines had disappeared  and the path was as beautiful again as a shady road enveloped in green with the morning sun expressing itself through the tree tops as only the sun can. And as the sun must.

Do what you need to do. It will set you free.

Love,

Natanya

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