Fear

What would you do if you
weren’t Afraid?

Someone I follow on Instagram posted this quote today.  Does a more loaded question exist?

Where do you draw the line between fearlessness and
stupidity? 

If I was not afraid of anything, I would quit my job.  I would take more photography classes.  I would open a knit shop. I would empty my
401k to buy a house and have a baby. I would study wine making. I’d become a sommelier.
I’d be a farmer. I’d burn my closet full of corporate holiday party dresses—except
maybe the blue one I wore a few years ago because it’s my favorite.  I would raise chickens and bees. I’d move to Lake
Tahoe.  Then to Alaska. Then Canada.  Then Washington, Oregon, Colorado, and
Montana.

Really though, when I really think about it, there isn’t
much that fear has held me back from. 
Everything in my life that happened or remained as a result of my own
fear has taught me a valuable lesson that can carry me through the rest of my
life.  Things have always worked out—even
when they haven’t.

And the list above? If I try hard, I can make that list fit
comfortably into my life right this second. 
I certainly won’t quit my job, but I can absolutely take a photography
class.  I can’t own my own knit shop, but
given the amount of yarn taking over our house, I sure can pretend.  The house and the baby are works in
progress.  The wine education? I’ve
already told my brother that we’ll do it together when he turns 21 (he’s only
19 now). Farming? I do that in my back yard every spring/summer. The chickens
and the bees aren’t feasible in L.A., but I can dream. And as far as moving
goes—there’s always travel.  We don’t
have to live somewhere to get a taste of something different.

So really, what would I do if I wasn’t afraid?  Not much. 
The better question would be, "What would I do if I had endless amounts
of energy?"  That would be a novel.

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