A phrase from a novel I've just finished reading has stuck in my head - "I feel a little bit invincible." The main character in the book had experienced a catastrophic trauma and lived, and because she survived, she felt more capable of handling life's difficulties. I have heard similar refrains in other literature - "that which does not kill us makes us stronger" or "I have suffered the greatest loss that anyone can imagine. Nothing more painful can ever happen to me."
And yet - as I've written before - I feel fear, in even making the smallest decisions or taking what would otherwise be insignificant actions. Will that fear begin to melt away, to be replaced with an emerging assertiveness and decisiveness? Will my backbone become solid again (will I "man-up" - the common euphemism of political pundits)? This shadow of doubt, this lingering decision-anchor, this reticence to get back into life, this lack of meaning and direction - weighs on me like an albatross around my neck.
The potential for life is all around me, waiting like the trees, flowers and grass for the warm sun, the gentle breezes and the cleansing rain. Where is my Spring, and when, and how, and why?
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