The bogey man in my mind

I read a quote today that felt like a punch in the gut:

"Fear is for those who don't get out much."

I was surprised by my visceral reaction. I used to think I was fearless. And somewhat invincible. And pretty much unstoppable. And I definitely no longer feel like that. Yes, there have been challenges I never imagined of late, but it doesn't feel like the fear is about that - not really.

I thought about it a bit - what am I afraid of? Why does this fear seem so much more powerful than I know myself to be? I can taste it sometimes - it tastes like bile and blood and vapour. I can just about see it out of the corner of my eye. I hear it sigh under the worn tires of my car. Mock me from the empty side of my bed.

What scares me most is not the real & present threats to life and limb and safety. What scares me most is never not being alone. What scares me is my sons forgetting about me. What scares me is being knocked down one more time than I can get up. What scares me is people disappearing when I need them. Some of them are old fears. Some of them are new. None of them are real.

My adventuring heart still beats strong. My painted toes still crave the unbeaten path. My long legs still yearn for new spaces to stroll, climb up, slide down and swim through. If fear wants to come along, it should pack a bag & update its passport - I might have to go alone, but I'm still going places.