I'm Not Afraid

My kids turned me into a Jason Robert Brown fanatic. Productions of Parade and Songs for a New World in which they sang in high school and college are etched in my memory. And today's inner soundtrack is dominated by "I'm Not Afraid of Anything" from SFANW.

I've recognized that the thing that keeps me from living my life as I should (and as I wish) is fear. An odd revelation, for I have never considered myself a fearful person. But not only is fear a powerful motivator, it's also a pretty sneaky operator.

Fear of failure drives me to dot every "i" and cross every "t" until I've convinced myself that my karma is so spotless that the gods wouldn't dare hand me a bad outcome.

Fear of disappointment leads me to allow everyone else's opinion to trump my own best instincts.

Fear of disapproval forces me to swallow every potentially dissenting opinion and belief, superficially agreeing with things that I resent.

And of course, the imagined outcome of not keeping these fears at bay is far worse that whatever actual repercussions they would bring. And so, armed with courage and optimism, I begin to slay these dragons.

I'm not afraid of anything,

Be it growing old or going out of style.

I'm not afraid of anything,

Who would give up what they want without a trial?

Another mile...

I'm not afraid.

Subtraction

The annual late August detox has turned into the September Desperate To Get My Life In Order Master Plan.

I stumbled onto my own blog today and skimmed these few dozen posts spanning over 3 years. And I thought that I'd really like to know this woman who is so honest and wishes to be wise. So I will fight my tendency to believe that writing on these pages is selfish and self-centered. Or perhaps I will just acknowledge that it is indeed selfish, but that such selfishness is no longer a vice.

The detox is all about subtraction. I've done it enough times in my roller coaster work life to be intimately familiar with it. 

Visual subtraction, in which I purge everything within my sight that isn't beautiful or highly functional. 

Aural subtraction, in which huge swaths of silence are punctuated occasionally by embarrassing new age music played on a single instrument, with no interesting artistic content... the musical equivalent of warm milk, I guess.

Physical subtraction, in which my daily caloric intake is cut in half, with a satisfying (yet sadly typically short-lived) loss of extra pounds.

Interpersonal subtraction, in which my social world shrinks to my husband and children, and the occasional conversation with a neighbor.

Time subtraction, in which my internal speedometer slows to a crawl, so completely against the grain, but somehow the most important gesture of all.

And this time, one addition: returning to write in these pages. So that perhaps the woman who writes here will have the courage to take over the rest of my life.