“Fuck fear, LIVE anyway.”

The above quote, which actually states to “Fuck fear, LOVE anyway”,  is courtesy of Bassey…check out her blog here.

Bassey says to “Let fear be the wind at your back and not the brick that keeps you from moving.”

For the past year or two, I’ve felt like I’ve been waiting. Waiting for something, but what that “something” is, I don’t know, and probably won’t know until it happens, if then.

Waiting.

Like a snake curled up under a rock, poised, ready to attack…waiting.

I don’t know why I used that analogy. I hate snakes, so why would I liken myself to one? Why would I compare myself to one of those slithery, slimy, venom-y creatures? Do I consider myself one?

Hardly.

I am  not a snake.

Way to digress, Zan.

Anyway, I hate when I get inside my head. It’s not a comfortable place for me. While I do love this new self-awareness, it scares me sometimes, because it forces me to confront head-on certain things about myself and my life that in previous years, I’d just shove underneath the pile of “other stuff” that I’ve conveniently built up in order to NOT have to deal with certain things.

See, I’m doing it again. Not dealing with it. What gives?

Is there a such thing as being too self-aware? Isn’t self-awareness a good thing? I know it’s virtually impossible to have too much of a good thing, but I guess it can be when it causes me to spend a lot of time lost in my head, trying to make sense of myself and my life thus far and how it all plays into my past, present and future. I worry too much about the future when I should really take things one day at a time and just LIVE, but when I was young and dumb and flying by the seat of my pants…living for the moment, I mean…well, you see where that’s gotten me. The result is that now I’m too cautious, cautious to a fault.

My fear of fucking up has put me in a perpetual state of limbo, waiting…waiting. Waiting for what? Who knows. What I do know is that while making mistakes is a part of life, I spent the first part of my life making so many mistakes that now I’m too afraid to get out there and make the mistake that may end up being the right mistake. So what now? Knowing this, do I just toss off the armor that I’ve put on, the armor that keeps me from living, from loving, from doing? Or do I leave it on and watch the next 5, 10 years pass me by?