The Other Side

It’s pitch black here, and I think it’s small. At least it seems that way.

I can’t see, and I hear nothing, so I just think. I’m alone and I won’t dare move. I can’t break out, but I don’t even want to break out. Not sure why.

But deep down within, I feel these small pulses that urge me to flail my arms. Move! Move your arms! But I won’t. I don’t want to break anything or disturb what’s around me. I can’t even see or sense what’s next to me because it’s so dark. Maybe I’ll flail my arms tomorrow.

I’m so still I fall asleep. I‘m lying down on what feels like a bed anyway, so sleep is easy. It’s still stiflingly dark, but I’m as comfortable as I can get in this situation. I’m thinking, thinking, thinking about scenarios and experiences, over and over. But I’m annoyed right now because the pulses are back, and they are stronger this time. “Flail your arms! Move them.” I’m trying to analyze these pulses. Sigh.

I can’t do that! I don’t know what will happen and I’m afraid to find out! I’m not moving. Maybe tomorrow.

How many hours, days have gone by? It’s still dark. More sleep and more of the same, until with fierce quickness out of nowhere, I’m jolted by a surge that snatches my breath as it forces me upright. I’m terrified and out of sorts, feeling like I’m losing myself as I lose all sense of balance, falling wildly into nothing but space. With desperation, I’m reaching and grabbing for something, anything to catch me.

Then in an instant, light cancels the dark.

In my panic, my arms knock open a big cardboard flap and now, on the other side, I see colors and people and movement and life.

Fear is dark, and it’s a box. It limits your vision, distorts your perspective, takes over your existence and confines you to comfortable.

Outside of fear is the bright place I find inspiration. It’s where I’m free to step out, take chances, mess up, get up, get better, trust God and thrive.

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