It seems so strange, but just three times (so far) of being able to connect with a horse, an animal that I’ve always admired and loved, has been awakening both courage and fear inside of me.
I’ve found myself thinking of things once lost as though they may be found again. I’ve scheduled our piano to be tuned. (This may sound puzzling to many, but coming from years of financial instability, it was a step towards living for me.) I plan to get the bow from my decades unplayed violin rehaired. I even allowed myself to dream a teeny bit of getting a better violin and playing as well as I could with arthritic fingers… just because.
I dreamed one night that I was dancing, young and twirling freely. I threw out rusty muffin tins and ordered new ones.
I was able to find the courage to go to a funeral last weekend. In the past, it’s exactly the kind of thing that I’d kick myself over and over for ‘failing’ at because I couldn’t get myself to leave the house and go out where people were. It’s sad how much I’ve missed because my ability to cope met its limits at my own door.
Later that same day, I kept a promise and took my youngest daughter to see the movie Cinderella. (It did sort of take a lot out of me, many hits of waves of anxiety that left me feeling exhausted by evening, but I did it.)
The fear and anxiety also has a new kind of ebb and flow.
What if suddenly a session goes badly?
Where would I turn then?
What hope would be left?
What if the therapist really dislikes me?
What if the therapist meets my husband, is charmed by him as counselors in the past were, and then I slide into gray invisibility again?
What if it’s too late for me?
What if I don’t have anything worthwhile within me that could lead to financial independence?
Along with the fears, I can still hear my own harsh judgments and criticisms.
You should never have let it get this far.
Why was I so stupid? So blind?
What was I thinking?
What’s wrong with me?
kick kick kick… I haven’t: sorted through the bins of my mother’s stuff; started very many seeds for this year’s garden; joined a gym; used the sprouter kit; organized the bins of photos; started learning yoga etc.
kick kick kick
I don’t listen to the fears and condemnations for long. Instead, I take a slow breath, and let the courage rise back just enough to keep moving forward.
I look in the mirror and say, “It’s okay. You’re getting there, so one step at a time, and that’s okay.”