Times like these make me feel vulnerable.
It’s not the 7.2 magnitude earthquake that shook our city last Tuesday (I wasn’t here then). It’s not the aftershocks that left me numb while my bed shook up and down this morning. It’s not learning a different perspective of a relationship where two people are separated by water and several numerical digits sitting next to the word “miles”.
Maybe it’s just the way the afternoon drags on as I look at the people half-afraid, half-tired, half-unaware. The look of retirement and frustration crumbled between knowing and unknowing.
But it’s a relief to find yourself afraid at times. This only means that you are human and mortal.
I’m afraid of not knowing where Atlantis is, or if mermaids and aliens exist or not. I’m afraid of discovering that our existence is merely an illusion, a dream of some sort and that we’re only characters in someone’s imagination. I fear that there’s too much fear in my head and that it feels like it’s turning into stone.
But amidst all these fear is a clear view of acceptance. Acceptance that life is but a little boat–unstable & tiny compared to the ocean. But with this small boat, we continue to sail towards our destination.