sometimes the trite is right

My mom's cousin was in town this weekend from Pennsylvania. She's a 12-stepper and a therapist and can talk about recovery and addiction and fears and avoidance forever. (If you've read my blog, you know I love these topics). Anyhow, this weekend she shared this with me and now I share it with you. It might sound trite or pat or cliche, but I think it is true.

FEAR

fuck everything and run

or

face everything and recover

What I've been thinking about lately is that what it is we do not face, do not express, do not come to terms with — these things will own us for the rest of our lives.

Or maybe that is just me. But I can easily see where I've chosen to run away, to avoid, to assume, to not question, to push away, to close my eyes — and these things have hurt me in the end. They have only served to make my life smaller. They've created road blocks and stumbling blocks and mumbling crocks. They've solidified into constricting scar tissue. Boogie men that I'd rather keep in the closet or under the bed.

But the problem is, you can cognitively know you need to get over it, move on, face it. But for whatever reason, your soul is still scared. You are still an unspoken chicken.

So what do you do?

I dunno. Just show up I guess. Just show up. Just be there. Just open up. Just hold out your arms like Christ on the cross and accept reality for what it is. And maybe then you can take the nails from your hands, get down off that stand and move on.