This week’s creative
therapy catalyst is: “what’s something you fear?”
Here’s my
art. Journaling Reads:
When I first thought about this topic, I was going to take the easy
route. I was going to write about the dark. I’m afraid of the dark. Not
too much. Not enough to have to leave the lights on. But enough to feel
uneasy. Enough to rush through the dark to get to the light.
But that’s too easy.
There are so many other things I’m afraid of. I am afraid of being
alone. I grew up with friends who weren’t really my friends and who
tried to get out of inviting me to events as often as they could. Thus,
I’ve always felt unwanted. I’ve also always been a bit different from
the rest of my family so I grew up with a sense of not belonging.
Coupling the two makes me someone who’s really scared of being alone.
Someone who always thinks that the people around her will flee at the
first opportunity. I worry about this constantly. Even with Jake, who’s
been with me for fourteen years. I still think that, given the
opportunity, he would leave.
So I thought I would make my art about being alone. But then I realized
that there’s something I fear even more than that. Something so close to
my core that it makes me scared just thinking about it.
I am afraid of having a life unlived. A life of unrealized potential.
A life of never having had the guts. Never having tried.
Of all the things I could think of, this scares me the most. I want to
live life fully. I want to be able to look back and feel no remorse.
Feel no guilt. I don’t want to wish I could do it over again. I don’t
want to regret anything.
I always want to do so much and accomplish so much. My todo lists are
never below 30 items. But I want to make the time to reflect. To love.
To share. To be spontaneous. I want to turn my life upside down
occasionally just so I can relearn everything. So I can be sure I still
feel the same way about my decisions. I don’t want to take anything for
granted. Not a moment of my life wasted.
What scares me the most is being too scared to truly live.
Karen, your words are beautiful. This is a wonderful piece of art and I thank you for sharing.