I had this comment on a post not too long ago. I love getting comments here, all kinds of comments. Those of you who say, “yes, me too”, and those of you who reveal your souls. This comment has stuck with me. The commenter used the name “Confused”, which worried me about the message I was sending here (assuming there’s a message). It made me take pause before I replied. It made me wonder about the words I was leaving here. It made me wonder about my life.
The comment was wonderful, I replied the best I could. He replied… I replied again, and then — we were done. Here anyway. I wasn’t done with the thoughts swimming in my head — the feeling that I might have been stuck in a rut… that I might have been perpetually swimming under water. He hasn’t been back, that I know of (also, I don’t know if he’s a he). Shortly after that, I wrote this post and felt a sense of righteous indignation as I typed away on my keyboard that night and could literally feel my head bobbing out of the water… taking a deep breath and finally ready to move forward. I was hoping “Confused” might come back to see it.
Around the same time, I saw this picture on Kind Over Matter,
I thought to myself, “What would I do if I had no fear? Well, I’d write a post about setting myself on fire for starters.”
But, for a while, I’ve been thinking about this picture, about that post I wrote, and about “Confused”. It’s been a challenging few weeks. I thought this might be a good time to do a gut check to see if I was moving forward or if I was perpetually swimming under water. I started thinking about what I would do if I had no fear.
I know I would start a blog, if I had no fear. I would go to the edge of losing control and then turn around and come back… I would invite conversation with those who have a certain disdain for me — if I had no fear. I would open up my heart when I should keep it closed and I would open up my mouth and let the words flow freely instead of pausing and walking away and I would invite new people into my sometimes uncertain world — if I had no fear.
I would wrap myself in doubt and walk out the door anyway, I would beg for understanding when I know all you’ll remember is the begging, I would continue to show up at the party hosted by agitated strangers and enjoy the company — all, if I had no fear. I would put myself and a sleeping bag and a cell phone in my car and head out to my favorite camping spot… I would seek clarity even when it proved my actions were muddied with spite — if I had no fear.
I would raise my children to question those who speak contemptuously about others who don’t act or speak or live the same as them and I would take my kids to the fair when I should have paid that bill and I would accept the brutal honesty you offer and I would set myself on fire… daily, if I had no fear.
I would do the things I’m doing now. That’s how I know I’m moving forward, that’s how I know I’m not perpetually swimming under water — that’s how I know. How do you know?