Fearless (Sunday Scribblings)

Fearless....

It should be something so easy to write about but I have sat staring at the blank screen, thoughts wondering in and out of my head. I keep going back to when I was a kid, maybe 10 years old at the oldest. I went to the mountains with my parents and brother. I can remember jumping from rock to rock and sliding through openings with no wiggle room. I had no worries about spiders or snakes or you know, possibly sliding off the mountain. I had zero worries, zero fear. I remember very clearly my mom telling me to be careful and at one point covering her eyes. I couldn't understand what the big deal was as I made my way out to the edge of this cliff. Now of course I understand. I sometimes wonder how that little girl, so carefree and fearless ended up me today. I went to that mountain almost a year ago when I visited my family. It wasn't the same. or I wasn't the same. Every step was cautionary. No traipsing across rocks out to the edge. I still had a lot of fun and I wasn't sitting on the sidelines. I ran around, from rock to rock. And I know part of it comes with growing up and realizing I'm not immortal. But anxiety played a big roll. At that point I was still 6 months out from my first panic attack. I wonder how a trip to the mountain would go today. I was to go back. I want to be able to jump to the edge of the cliff and look around.
A lot of us may never be fearless. I think fear is a way of our bodies and minds trying to caution us before we do something stupid. In this day and age though, we are bombarded by images and video. The news is a constant barrage of whats scary. Politicians and their fear mongering, terrorism, nukes, war, death, sleeper cell, Al Qaeda, Bin Ladin, Iran, North Korea. Every day. No wonder almost 7 million Americans have general anxiety disorder! (stat is from NIMH)
How I wish I was that fearless little girl again. No terrorism. No Iraq. Just a mountain as a playground.

Photograph (Sunday Scribblings)

I have always loved photography. Thats my mom's fault. She has probably a dozen very full photo albums and boxes of unsorted pictures.

This prompted me to look through my own photo albums. Its bittersweet in a way. Old friends who are no longer part of my life. A huge grin. There is one with an old friend that i love. He is standing in Wal-Mart with my pillow under his shirt. He looks lumpy pregnant. That night was one of the funnest nights. Another shows me standing in a shoe box with my best friend holding the lid on my head. I told people I could fit all of me in the box. It makes me smile thinking back.

The history on one of my faves: It shows me at probably two or three. I am curled up in a basket of laundry sleeping soundly. My parents didn't have a washer and dryer then so they went to laundry mats to wash clothes. Since my dad worked nights my mom took me with her. She pulled some stuff out of the dryer and put it in her basket. I can't remember the story how but I ended up inside the basket and the warmth made me cozy so I fell asleep. I don't know why its my favorite, Maybe it reminds me of uncomplicated times. Perhaps its the sheer innocence of it.

Whatever it is, it always envokes a grin, and thats why its my favorite.