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Whatcom Warriors Yearbook 1983-84

Yesterday was Sunday.  I had a very full and productive day and I even rested . . . a little.  Groceries were purchased for the week.  Laundry was done.  Football was watched.  I’ve been craving a pumpkin pie so a pumpkin was cooked down though the pie will be made today.  We had some company, so snacks were prepared and set out.  Cocktails were made.  Wonderful chats were had.

Whew, though.  That’s a lot for me on what really needs to be, a rest day.  Oh, and I didn’t sit down to write.  So, my grade just dropped from Writing Everyday to Writing (97.6%) Everyday.  Not that anyone is keeping track.  Ok, maybe I’m keeping track.


There was a point in the day when Greg, my fellas, and myself were all in the kitchen together, chatting and laughing.  I could’ve, at that moment, left them to go into my office and poke at my creativity.  However, I stayed in the kitchen and enjoyed the banter.  No matter what gets neglected, these times with my kids still living at home are a real priority for me. 

I am pretty proud of myself for not completely overthinking my decision to take a day off from Writing Everyday.  There were a couple things that crossed my mind though:  What if I jinxed myself and I won’t have anything else to write about?  What if I don’t want to write tomorrow, or the next day or the next day and this thing I love to do becomes a chore?  But mostly I quieted the fretting and enjoyed the day.

My Fear Maze

As I was tossing and turning trying to fall asleep last night, my mind began to wander the maze of fears I try to keep tucked away.  It’s never a great thing for me to navigate this maze while I’m sleepy and frustrated.  But since I was too tired to be reasonable, I charged right in.

I’m fabulously familiar with this maze.  I’ve been navigating the damn thing my entire adult life.  In fact, I know every nook and cranny including the way out.  Still though, I bump along, groping the walls in darkness, inching along as if I don’t already know the way.   I recite the same ol’ mantras:  . . . How come . ? . When will I . ? . . How can I . ? . . And then the familiar reassurances come that, all is well, patience has never failed me, I’m exactly where I need to be.   These wash over me, or they don’t, and I eventually fall asleep.

This morning when I woke up, my fear maze was bathed in new day energy.  Everything was still as I left it when I had fallen asleep.  That being, unresolved.  But a much less acute sense of pending doom, and more an acceptance as if Fear is one of my traveling companions.  Which it is.  And in balance, it can be a darn good teacher.

This Story Unfolding In Real Time

As I moved into my day, I was delighted to find a real sense of interest and excitement about what I was going to write.  And now here I am.  Stop and start typing along as my curiosity unfolds into discovery.  This isn’t one of those times when it’s all there and flowing out of me and I’m typing like the dickens just trying to keep up with it.  No, this is definitely stop and start typing.  This story is unfolding to me in real time.

Though I would really like a nice little lesson that I can tie up, and then we can be friends, I think my takeaway today is twofold: 


I love to write.  I even almost love to write everyday.  And I really liked taking a break yesterday so that jumping back in today felt wonderful and natural.  I liked it so much that, even as a person who is desperate for the 100%, I think I might be willing to live in the 97.6% range for the freshness and joy of it.


Fear is one of my traveling companions.  And, as traveling companions go, sometimes it can be demanding and annoying and even too loud.  But other times, especially when I am tucked onto my path in balance and flow, Fear can be my teacher.  It reminds me when it’s time to bring my attention to something that I have been ignoring for too long.  So, instead of wandering the familiar maze in the darkness, I think I’ll just turn and face it.  Look it in the face and ask what it needs. 

Fear As A Teacher

Most times when I do this with my fears, what is needed is attention.  Mine.  When I can be present here, I can breathe.  I can relax my body and listen.  I find that this transforms my Fear from a posturing bully, into my 6th grade teacher, Mrs. Thornson (?).  Who, by the way, was a real bad-ass but also a nice-ish older-ish teacher.  She made for damn certain we were all paying attention when attention was what was called for.  But at the end of the day, she was also a kind woman and a good teacher.  Not unlike my own Fear.

Whatcom Warriors Yearbook 1983-84
Whatcom Warriors Yearbook 1983-84

Let’s Be Friends~

So, if you love your routine but need to take a break for a fresh perspective, go ahead and do it.  If you have fears chasing you down and looming over you, take a deep breath and turn around.  Look them in the face and be amazed at what they might transform into.  And thank you for reading along 97.6% of the time with me.  I’m so glad we get to be friends~

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