Fear has no home in my heart anymore. It’s not that it’s been completely crowded out by courage, although I do, on most days, have a moderate amount of that. No, in this second act of my life, North of 50, fear has been pushed out by the desire to live more fully, a healthy diet of self acceptance and a rogue give no f#&ks about what the proverbial “they” think attitude. These words will continue to be repeated until they are a cellular part of me, until they are solid gold real, until the dollar store version I first bought has been recycled, as I opt for the investment piece I can wear for a lifetime.
My “don’t let the door hit you in the a#$” to fear goes like this:
Fear has no place in January.
I will haughtily refuse its calls in February.
I will escort its vileness out of my home in March and shed no tears.
I will politely assail it in April.
In May, it will not be a poor stranger knocking at my door, but a too familiar con artist I boldly turn away.
Fear will have no place in June, from this day forward, reserved for the wedding of courage and bravery.
In July, if it partners with uncertainty, being well read will serve me benevolently, as I turn that Trojan horse away.
In August, the dog days of summer may slow me, but I will still rise from languidity to smack it down.
September will see me seizing it by the throat and I will laugh villainously if in October it tries to sleazily sneak in a scare or two.
In November, I plan to look it in its horridly ghoulish eye and thank it for all the strength I’ve amassed by battling it.
And in December, as gift giving abounds, I will pause, to consider all the gifts I’ve been given, treasures I would never have received had fear not challenged me, and had I not persevered in the winning of all those stare contests.
This is the year.
The year of NO FEAR!
Let’s tell fear we “give no f#&ks” together in 2016!
Peace and Love