For some time now, I’ve been thinking about fear–not the kind that comes from a scary movie or macabre story; I’m talking authentic, honest-to-god fear.
The real deal.
The kind that gently taps at the window on a snowy winter’s evening.
The kind that stands over us in the night.
The kind that walks conspicuously along our hedge dragging its fingers on the wrought iron gate all the while casting curious glances our way.
The kind that forces us to look deep into our souls where all our hidden insecurities congregate.
And although it never gets any easier thinking about such a heavy topic, there is one thing I can say with absolute certainty–when it comes to our worst fears each of us has unfinished business and our demons are more than willing to meet us halfway.
Even more than that, I think something deep inside all of us knows that our ghosts are always traveling just three or four steps behind; waiting patiently, catching up little by little.
For some time now, I’ve been thinking about fear.
Deserted estate, near Rollag, MN
Leave a note.