I often miss what I had as a child. I do love the more spiritual understanding of Christmas that I have gained as I've grown. At the same time, there will never be that sense of wonder and magic that Christmas held when I was little.
I miss that. I miss so much of being a child and I often wish that I hadn't been in such a hurry to grow up
I'm scared.
I'm scared to leave what is familiar and comfortable. I fear this great unknown.
Perhaps I will arrive there and they will realize the mistake they made in choosing me over other applicants.
Every time I think about going there I get a knot in my stomach.
Perhaps it is, in part, due to the fact that I have no plan after this. No REAL plan, that is. There is a small inkling in the far recesses of my mind that sometimes thinks that it knows what it wants for me in the future. But planning that far ahead worries me. I fear disappointment.
That't it.
My biggest fear. Disappointment. Perhaps I will arrive at my destination and realize that it's not where I want to be. By then I have no choice but to stick with it.
I need to end this post. It's Christmas eve and I should be thinking about the meaning of the holiday. Not fears and worries.
Mottled Light
the way my mind feels sometimes, waiting for a breakthrough.
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