Fear can be seen as the ground beneath your feet; omnipresent, cold, hard, and impersonal.
But you think it is a Fall day, and you write with mittens on your hands.
And you are wearing a scarf, pants, and a sweater. You are sipping blueberry white tea.
And the river gurgles, and trees rustle, because it is Fall- and you are sitting by a river. The Thames River- on October eighth, 2012
The leaves seem to glow, they are a great many colours- but predominately it is light and beautiful.
In front of you is a rock- a sturdy rock. A white, grey one that you stand upon and feel beneath your feet.
This rock is your fear. And all around you, the river flows on: continuous, impossible to stop.
You inhale: deeply, through the nose right to the hip. You open your eyes- and release. For space is all around you; in the air, the trees: space and light surrounds you. It is beautiful.
And like a precious little angel, the trees whisper, and the river moves steadily on.