YOU WILL, TOO

I learned fear and forgot that life is fun.  For instance, the sick twitch in the stomach is excitement as much as it is terror.  Before I learned fear, I knew how to ride deep inside that tube.  Back then, insomnia was anticipation, and destruction was a phantom fogie made up by people who had forgotten how to be alive.

And life was this:
Signing up.
Dressing to state beliefs.
Owning people others' shunned.
Laughing at pain.
Taking time to listen.
Being Skeptical.
The Brutality of Honesty.

Then: fear; born of concern for place.  Status became more important than self, and suddenly, I was vulnerable.  Suddenly, destruction loomed, and it was real.  Being authentic led to lost opportunities, and relationships withered as appearance of integrity overwhelmed actuality.  One set of friends became liars and the other set threw me out of their club when it became apparent I did not live up to their vision of perfection.  I could lose my place, and life was no longer fun.

I didn't sign up for fear of regrets.
I didn't dress to state my beliefs for fear I wouldn't pass inspection.
I used the people others' shunned for fear I couldn't make friends.
I avoided pain for fear it could actually harm me.
I stopped listening for fear I couldn't be heard
I looked to other people for advice for fear of failure if I tried things on my own.
And I became nice for fear of the cost of real relationship.

Life became the management of anxieties and a restless yearning for control.

I began to lose my voice: shallow breaths and technique without emotion;  years spent perfecting the motions that win judge's marks but leave the audience cold; a thin, wispy whine in place of the rich, throaty growl that is the true voice.

Cultivating fear is a poor strategy.  It never delivers on its promises.  The worst you imagine isn't nearly as bad as it actually gets.  Control doesn't stop the flood.  Small gets squashed as readily as large.  Assholes are assholes, no matter what you do to appease them.

So stop appeasing them.  Stop wondering how it will turn out.  Stop trying to be on top of it all.  Ride deep in the tube.  Let the wave curl over you.  Scream, if you have to, but let yourself have the fun.  See where that takes you.  Decide to trade dread for anticipation.  Laugh out loud, and thumb your nose at anyone that stares.  Trust that a worthy friend always sees you without your make-up on.

I did, and I feel much more like singing.  I suspect you will, too.