There always seems to be two different directions you could take. Be brave, take a chance or play it safe. You’ll never get hurt, but you’ll never live.
I don’t have enough bravery, courage. I couldn’t bear to put it on the line, and have it served back to me. If I did it enough, would it become like breathing? Would it become an involuntary action? Would I always bite the bullet, steel myself and go for it or would common sense enter and talk me out of it? I always do things the long hard way, even when there is an obviously much easier path to take. I rely too much on what I notice, or hear and not enough on what I determine through facts actually given to me, upon asking. Difficulty lies in the practice of intuition and perception. Asking would be like slicing a hot knife though butter. Too easy.
There are so many things I want to do, say, ask. I’m afraid of failure. Of making the same mistakes I’ve already made. I’m afraid I’d end up back at square one again. I don’t want to begin again. I don’t want to lose.
Either I make the safe choice, and go through life without breathing, or I take a chance and breathe fire. There’s always a choice. I just wish I realized that.