My journey toward the Ironman finish line, and within myself.
Monday, November 30, 2009
I'm not sure why I don't like running in the dark. Maybe because I'd never done it before. I love the quiet night. I got out of work early tonight, and came home to a beautifully silent house except for the Celtic Spa music which I choose to keep at a low level constantly playing. The sounds weep and flow through my home, a grounding. As my Dad said, like well worn, comfortable furniture. I am very thankful to have had my family here for the holiday. I fear I was not as nice, or nearly as giving as I'd like to become. My husband surely knows this. I hope he knows how much I want to be "that" person, and not the one who lashes out. I am not sure if my selfishness is borne of fear. Likely so. Fear of vulnerability. Fear of failure. Fear of success. Just plain fear. What a waste. It is said that the opposite of fear is love. Selflessly giving of one's time, touch, care, even to myself. To care, to nurture. I wonder, is it something I can practice? Something I can move toward? I suppose if I follow the path. I am not the first to want this, nor the first to move toward it. I do not expect perfection, but a steady advance in the direction of a giving heart is something I crave.