I keep waiting for an epiphany to fall in my lap, bright, shiny, and easy to understand.
But I know that's not the way to find epiphanies.
Instead, my epiphany might smell like woodsmoke, or sweat, or Autumn. Maybe it'll sound like rain on a tin roof, or crickets chirping, or laughter. Perhaps it'll look like fresh turned earth, rich and brown, or spray paint on a wall, or the flash of a raccoon's eyes at night, bright, inquisitive, and utterly wild.
I don't know when I'll find it.
I guess I'll have to wait and see. But I know I can't wait passively. As much as I try and avoid knowing so, evade the question, delude myself, I *know* that if I want to figure life out, I need to stretch myself, to grow, to reach out. To walk new paths and meet new people.
And the thought of doing so scares me shitless. So I make excuses that are half true, procrastinate, and wait for bright shiny epiphanies to fall in my lap.
If I believed in God, as such, I'd pray for strength. As it is, I know that I have the strength, I just need to do it. To let go. Of so much piled up fear, and uncertainty, and self doubt, and a million other emotions.
I can do it. I know I can. Actually doing anything, on the other hand, is considerably harder.
God, the Divine, the Universe, the Great Mother, and anyone else who's listening, give me strength.