Facing the fear

I was raised in fear.

No, not fear for my life or my possessions. Lucky me.

But mostly fear of the unknown, the fear that something will go wrong somewhere. My dear old mother was a worrier. She worried constantly about everybody in the huge family. Will the one who is travelling have an accident? Will the one with a cold get pneumonia? Will the one doing an exam fail?

Of course her worry was born out of love. And of course life sometimes fulfilled her fears. In such a big extended family somebody will sometime fail, or have an accident or a heart attack. Such is life.

It took me years and years to realize that I have a choice in the matter. I do not have to live my life the same way. (I also learned the beautiful term catastrophyzing for that fear – creating a catastrophe in your mind before anything has happened.)

Yes, I can decide how to handle that fear. I can either succumb to it, or I can fight it.

Unfortunately the habits of a lifetime are not easy to change. To put it mildly.

So it is no easy fight.

At present the fears coming down on me all have to do with my trip from South Africa to England to see Bruce in June. Surely there must be at least a million little (or big!) things that can go wrong.

And no – I am NOT going to list them here. Lucky you! J

Instead, I am going to look at the attached picture once again. The picture of a man abandoning himself to the hands of people he does not know. And having a whale of a time in doing so.

Thank you, Bruce! See you in Sunderland!

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