Fear of Too Late
May 11, 2012 § Leave a comment
Caution is pregnant with danger. To fear is to validate menace. I’m afraid of much of myself. Among the many things of which I’m capable are plenty of which I wish I weren’t. Diligence is exhausting. In the big world these are not bad things that I’m trying not to do, but in the context of me I can’t afford to do them. I know where Herself lives, and it’s not far. Often, I conjure reasons to go there, but I have rules: I will do nothing that deliberately puts me in a position to encounter her. Her home is not “on the way” to anywhere else, and I cannot contrive it to be. Those are the laws and I’m the sheriff, but I’m also Ernest T. Bass. Once, and for a long time, there was no sheriff, and the laws were written in the sand. I’m grateful for the progress, just not the responsibility. I’m up to it but disappointed I have to do it. Still: progress. And it gets easier. I don’t forget that there is nothing to be gained, but I often choose not to believe it until it’s almost too late. I’m afraid of being too late.