I've been swimming in a sea of anxiety, frozen pipes, goat death, endless possibilities. I've endured anxiety, tried to bury it, tolerate it. But perhaps this undertow electrical charge is the primordial stew that Life emerges from? What is "peaceful belly" but sleep, my favorite soporific, lulling me to withdraw from the struggle? Perhaps this anxiety is my "new black", to be embraced as the tension which will pull me into the battle of the "real" world, impel me to walk on the hot coals of my dreams, make them real or at least move through them so as not to be burned.
The endless possibilities scare me, I long for my restricted life with it's clear priorities, Gil and the kid's well being, my identity as a self sufficient pioneer.
If I am free to do, to be. anything? How the hell do I chose? Find the energy to do anything else but survive? Face my dangerous lack of knowledge and skills? Dare to screw up in a Royal way, court death, mine and those I'm responsible for?
Perhaps this anxiety in my belly is like the energizing burn in the belly of my low cal days, to be embraced as a force for Good. Perhaps.
