I check my iPod for new moves on Words with Friends. I am beating my sister. She complains about it, but secretly I know if she is going to lose, she wants to lose to her big sister.
It’s the sibling hierarchy…
I check my social media, and nothing of interest is occurring. What am I expecting, anyway? For my neighbor to announce a tornado near her home?
I begin to consider this distracted behavior… but I stop, deciding to clean house instead, visit the garden, talk with the dogs, check everything again… anything.
It’s the fear.
The fear of what, or of what not, more appropriately.
It’s not ravenous, it’s not all-consuming, but it’s there, and my heart and soul simply have no space for it.
And just when I begin to give it attention, the very thing it craves, I go outside, to drive with my husband.
I am reminded of my smallness once again. Of fear’s mission for us all.
A mission to distract one from seeing…
from wondering, imagining, delighting…
of experiencing and sensing, living right now…
on wanting to make life all about me.
It occurs to me a few hours have passed by, and my husband takes my hand and smiles.
I look back outside, for what I don’t know.
Fear has tucked its tail down, has left.
I am released.
And I smile back.
My heart is filled.