Fear, the Great Destructor
I’m finally willing to admit–or readmit–how big of a role I let fear play in my life. It’s disgusting. It’s self-sabotage. It’s half-hearted living that’s ultimately nonsensical.
Does it make any sense, however subconsciously, to fulfill my prophecy of being unfulfilled and alone simply to validate my fear and loneliness? Or to love half-heartedly out of fear of how things will end up? Not in the least.
Nothing is guaranteed. What you put in, you get out. Half-hearted efforts will never produce maximal results.
What would you do if you weren’t afraid?
If I honestly answer this question, it’s apparent just how afraid I really am.
What’s the worst that could happen?
If I honestly answer this question, it’s apparent how full of crap I am for succumbing to my fears.
“Fuck the bullshit
Whether from the hill or from the pulpit”
-Saul Williams, “Scared Money” from The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust
We can give our power to our fears or we can give it to our hopes. Why do I so strongly believe that the worst will come from walking my path or from truly falling into love, especially when I’ve yet to really try it?
If you allow obstacles to remain obstacles, you’re stopping yourself. Stop. Now go.