Fear is a Prison.

I’m afraid of many things. Part of my fear must stem from being born in what is known as the flatlands. Once when I tried learning to ski, I was carried off the bunny hill by paramedics. Driving on mountain roads leaves me white-knuckled and cross. Once I’m there, the beauty of the mountains is only surpassed by my gratitude for having successfully made it alive.

I like the thought of living and working peacefully on a beautiful, resort-style property located on a sandy beach near the ocean. That’s a beautiful thought, right? But if I were actually there, I have no doubt that I would spend my time envisioning hurricanes, floods, and drowning. Just leave it to me to suck the joy out of every single minute of life. I’m a pro. That crazy character from A Series of Unfortunate Events has absolutely nothing on me. I mean, Meryl Streep played her in the movie and everybody tells me I look like Meryl. Duh. Obviously.

So I need to learn how to relax. As part of my self-therapy plan, I’m going to purchase a sign that says “Fear is a prison.” I saw one online but didn’t buy it even though I knew I should have and of course they’re sold out and I can no longer find one online. Just my luck! I suppose I could design one and have it printed but that just feels like too much work. I mean, what if I created one and nobody liked it? I would hate to create something — for fun — that was a negative testament of my career. So much for trying and losing being better than trying at all. Fear. Stupid prison.

Photography credit (and could he please make me a sign?) goes to Sean Hart at: http://www.massimopescuma.it/2011/08/04/fear-is-a-prison-sean-hart.html.

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