We all have moments, moments where fear overcomes the mind and takes us to the darkest places of our soul. I can stay calm under pressure, but beneath it all there’s a ground swell of panic and fear. Last night I was awakened by such a fear. A moment when the panic overcomes the comfort of sleep and takes over my mind. I don’t mind speaking about my secret shame, mostly because I have learned the best way of letting go is by telling my story.
It’s hard to describe in 300 words the process in which I use. But through a tremendous amount of trial and error, I discovered that confession, forgiveness, and letting go have brought me the peace I so desperately sought. Make no mistake, I am no walking miracle. There are days, weeks like this one where I feel like I have been drained of every ounce of energy. I wish I could be the bearer of some new miracle cure, but I am not. All I know is what works best for me.
To breathe in and breath out, to pause for just that one moment. Call it prayer, call it meditation, call it what you will. The silence gives me relief. But now I fight a new ailment watching myself wither away. While the presents of an old friend come’s back to haunt me. The panic and fear, the anxiety and depression envelopes my soul. Feeding me lines of helplessness and dread. The sting of death doesn’t bother me as much, as the withering away.
I know it sounds a bit silly but looking at my life I see so many things I wish to accomplish. Yet here I am staring out a lone window into the grayness of the morning. Still I am here typing out my thoughts, my fears hoping for a break in the clouds. Enabling myself once again to make it through another day.
It’s hard to describe in 300 words the process in which I use. But through a tremendous amount of trial and error, I discovered that confession, forgiveness, and letting go have brought me the peace I so desperately sought. Make no mistake, I am no walking miracle. There are days, weeks like this one where I feel like I have been drained of every ounce of energy. I wish I could be the bearer of some new miracle cure, but I am not. All I know is what works best for me.
To breathe in and breath out, to pause for just that one moment. Call it prayer, call it meditation, call it what you will. The silence gives me relief. But now I fight a new ailment watching myself wither away. While the presents of an old friend come’s back to haunt me. The panic and fear, the anxiety and depression envelopes my soul. Feeding me lines of helplessness and dread. The sting of death doesn’t bother me as much, as the withering away.
I know it sounds a bit silly but looking at my life I see so many things I wish to accomplish. Yet here I am staring out a lone window into the grayness of the morning. Still I am here typing out my thoughts, my fears hoping for a break in the clouds. Enabling myself once again to make it through another day.
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