Bump in the night. And on the slopes.

I went skiing for the first time this season! With a cozy new raspberry-pink ski coat and a freshly knit hat to match, of course. The snow was great. But unfortunately, my own internal conflict overshadowed the potential fun. Why so afraid? It's like climbing... and the rest of my life. I am standing right next to sheer joy, but this big barrier keeps us separate. Fear of the chair lift, fear of taking a turn that looks too steep, fear of looking stupid, fear of losing control.

And what keeps me in my house when there are relationships and connection right outside the door? Fear of judgement. Rejection. I'm not smart enough, funny enough, attractive enough, thin enough, interesting enough... Perfectionism much?! All these years of therapy and it still has complete control of me sometimes.

On the eternal quest to figure out how to be happy in life and make a living while I'm at it, yesterday I decided I should go to design school and work in the clothing/textile industry. (FYI: A few months ago I was going to spend a year at an orphanage in Central America, and two years ago I was going to refurbish vintage Airstream trailers...) Just the idea that I could possibly do something all day that made me happy and make a decent living made me feel fifty pounds lighter for about two seconds. But then the fear and doubt slowly creaped it's way in. How would you even get in? What if you weren't actually any good? What were you thinking?! Until it's just another crazy idea to joke about. And I stick to what I know I know.

I was recently reminded how intoxicating good chemistry with another person can be (even with an immature republican football coach, but that's another story). Deliciously all consuming - concerns about all other responsibility and consequences (and reason, obviously) melt away for a while. I think fear is equally intoxicating in the opposite direction - into the dark side. It sucks me in and everything else fades to the background. And when I go through times when the fear gets louder than the belief in joy and love, I start waking up startled. Hearing more bumps in the night. Doors and windows suddenly exist only as potentials for intrusion. The other night, I actually forgot I had cats and spent a good minute in terror. In my anxiety-drunken state, life means danger. Isn't it amazing the power your mind has to shape your reality? And in the winter around here, I am pulled towards the shadows.

But as I keep skiing, less and less energy is fed to the fear. I start to catch glimpses of the familiar rush. I remember this is something I enjoy. My body knows what to do. Conversation becomes more interesting than worrying about falling 30 feet. I remember about trust. And joy. Now the trick is to get that to rub off on the other areas of my life...