You Were Once Wild

‎You were once wild. Don't let them tame you!  -- Isadora Duncan 


Over and over again in my life, change comes sneaking up on me. Sometimes I welcome it with open arms. Most times I do not. Rather than face an uncertain future, I let my fear lead me around and around in an ever tightening circle of misery and doubt and free-floating angst. You'd think that after 54 years, I'd have figured out that the future is always uncertain, and that avoidance only postpones the inevitable, and postpones it painfully. You'd think I'd learn that the harder I fight, the more brutal the change. But no. Every time, the same paralysis, indecision, and self-inflicted agony. I'm amazed, sometimes, that I've had any kind of life at all, and done any of the things I've done. I've done them by letting my dreams and aspirations germinate just beneath the surface of my consciousness until they're coiled to spring at the first opportunity, propelling me forward too fast for the fear to kick in.  
Change is knocking at my life again. And knocking. And knocking. And it must be a doozy this time because it's been knocking louder and louder for years, and my fear is so big, it's drowning everything else out. I think it's going to hurt this time. I think it's going to hurt a lot.