I Concur With Marianne Williamson

Do you know what our problem is? Fear. That's our problem. No matter what why you look at it, it always comes down to fear

Do you know why I am writing this? It's not to "express myself" like the cheesy posters on school walls and "inspirational" speakers will say (who listens to them anyway?). It's so I can get the words out of my head. There's a limited amount of space in there. I don't want it to overflow or I'll be spouting off random lines of poetry at embarrassing times.

Anyway, I no longer have these thoughts in my head; they're on paper, and some of the things I write down I am extremely proud of, but do you know how many people will actually read them? Probably no one. Why? Because of fear.

Even though I put my heart and soul into making these words be moving or heartfelt or exciting or whatever, I'm shoved too far into my comfort zone to let anybody see them. The point is that there is none. What's the point in writing something that no one will ever read?

I wonder, I drive myself crazy wondering if I'm actually and good at writing, but because I'm never gutsy enough to do anything, I'll never know. Maybe my style is crappy, maybe it's interesting or entertaining or funny or whatever, but no one can ever tell me because I'll never ask.

And pretty much everyone has something like this. They want something, need something so badly it settle like a vulture in their chest, picking at the bones before their heart stops beating. They try to rationalize, try to think I don't need to keep this inside of me, I can take action, I can fix this, but the vulture fixes it's beady eyes and bloody grin on them and they sink back quietly into nursing their growing collection of scars.

But why? What's the point of breathing in and out if you're never really alive? If you're just one frightened sheep in a flock of frightened sheep?

And I can practically hear you, right at this moment saying nothing, there is none, agreeing with me, or vehemently denying that your vulture is scratching out the word 'ignorance' on your liver this very moment.

But you don't have to live with it. At the same time you are asking yourself "who am I to be brilliant?" someone else is asking "Who are you not to be?"

So who are you going to listen to? That's really the question. Not how are you going to live with fear, or the shame, or whatever, but how are you going to live without it? Are you going to listen to the one that loves you or the one that wants to deep fry your kidneys?

Because when you get right down to it. it's up to you to decide. You can make all the excuses you want, but do you want to be a person or an aviary for the rest of your life?

Because if you can go outside in the sun, why would you spend all of your time in a cave, listening to fungi grow?

But you wanna know the really sad part? Some people don't get it. They don't come to the light. They think they can live with their demons pecking away at their insides, or they think they can deal with it themselves. And when they try to deal with it themselves, instead of coming to the light, all they do is drive themselves farther from it. And pretty soon, they have a whole flock of vultures.

But do you wanna know the great part? Its never too late. Light and Grace are always there.

And they always will be.





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