The gravy of possibility begins with panic. Fright over anything we don’t understand is understandable. (I hope you like that flip-flop of parallel wording. At least, I do!) We’re conditioned to stay comfy inside our circumstances. Taking chances is largely that thing we watch others do. The big-wigs of financial means trading their millions as we play penny poker atop our plastic tablecloths, sports players slamming victory that steal the trophies from a long-held winning streak, shark-bait ocean-dwellers clocking the beasts while smoothly spinning their limbs this way to that displaying contortions with balletic ease, or actors daring to play characters so darkly disturbed culturally or mentally in order to drive home the deliverance of renaissance desperately needed in our countries. Our inbred bravo arrives through the revelry of fluorescent fear. The unknown contains all we’ve ever dreamed.
Don’t let the fear of striking out hold you back. ~Babe Ruth
SucCEDEing is where it’s at. Where we surrender we render return. When we can’t pin it down, as if stapling it to our little slice of universe in its flimsiness would never tear from the fabric of our personal walls, we’re actually hampering the very ability for actuality to lavish us with luscious longings. Yet, humans were made for some weathering. Even those notables growing to grown, who barely scrape existence a skinny moment of being cooked before they’re restored for a later reincarnation redo, are multi-layered with their influence. We’re most impressive when we remain in awe with our fears, instead of cowering to ideas of awfulness. It’s our overthinking that leads to sinking us. Catapulting your realization that it’s less about how much you can know and is all related to sincerely setting in motion the waves of your worrying energy outwardly for the guardians of greatness to light your sh*t up!
People are producers in every sense of the term. We produce more of us. We produce ourselves into countless tantalizing teasers, flirty ticklers, quiet to quaking quandaries, and opulent outcomes. However, we’re apt to fall short when producing an excess of troubling cowardice to danger. Our trepidation amounts to resignation. Become the captain of your trembles. Get right ~ in the way of your defeatism dealings. Then, segway to the concession of cutting-edge obliteration of made-up-on-the-fly painful falsehoods. Those story-making scenarios that are everyday occurrences aiming to snake your power. The louder and farther your honesty flies, you’ll note how enhanced your life score. Riding your aversion as an empathetic tutor is ascendancy. Vacating our angst is usually the exact entrance that opportunity beholds it has room to move in. Prevailing leaves failure flailing.
Glaring dread is merely gleam waiting for your steam. The contaminating aspects of humanity include our lemming tendencies. We’re so good at following we forget that we’re all capable of leading. Mainly, ourselves, that is. We’re the grouch to our ouches. We’re cuckoo for circles. We run ragged around each other or ourself faster than NASCAR can count race cars rounding a single lap. Except, it’s rarely a manner of surveillance to see the loops through all their hoops they’re built to traverse. Start with the pieces you can readily influence action upon. Train your foreboding with efforts of gaping gratitude.
Abdicate your throne of fear-mongering to own your easement. Correctly linking our laborious imaginations to fruitful conclusions is curvaceous creative integration. You’re not supposed to govern the closure. God’s gotta have some things to keep him busy!
Fear’s afraid you’re a darn clever believer in calling all the shots for your own life. It’s a stalker wishing to be caught. It’s similar to the contradiction of COVID being a candy land of protection for introverts when even sweetness has a dark side. You must be willing to spar any ghoulish gumption grabbing at your genius. Perhaps your purpose pushed it’s eagerness far into your root canal demanding you speak all the layers of your truth to spur inhalation to the masses. Maybe you finally began feeding your passion because you pooped your pants so hard during that accident on the job you’d hated for ages. Blinding disquiet is typically seeking your attention. Stirrings of distress are simply asking you to undress your lucent nucleus. I reckon that at the center of our being live embryos of essence. They are marrow to our bones who’s innocence outranks heartbeats. Fear has long been our gateway drug to the glory of what we’re meant to receive.
May the champion fielding of your yield secure superabundant home-runs.