Inquisition

When did I get too old to go out and stand in a thunderstorm? Or stomp in puddles? Or lie in the grass?

How did I become so filled with self-doubt that the slightest question of my abilities leaves me wondering if I am somehow misperceiving my capacity to do well - as if I am somehow gravely off in my self-assessment?

Why did I start feeling so scared and worried all the time? About money? About violence? About unexpected and difficult events that smash into expectations and leave little broken pieces in their wake?

What is the balance between other and self? How do we form an identity based not only on our self-perception but also on the feedback we receive from others... to end up somewhere in between in a place approximating truth as best we are able with all our limitations and intricacies?

The trick lately, for me, is to remember who I am striving to become, who I have left behind, and who I already am... and to weave together a strong yet flexible self that is neither rigid nor tenuous in its final shape.