Sometimes

Sometimes

All my life I've tried not to be afraid.
Fear arises nonetheless.
Well-meaning people give advice.
They tell me it's going to be okay,
reassure me that I can do it.
Sometimes this helps.
Sometimes this makes me feel worse.
As I healed, as I aged, I believed
fear would leave, a relic of the past.
And sometimes I feel at peace,
a home in the world. But sometimes
fear feels as much a part of me
as my light eyes and graying hair,
as the freckles on my skin.
When my dog trembles, worry-barks
at the fireworks, I hold her as she shakes.
She's a dog, and dogs can be frightened.
I'm a person, fully alive. Sometimes I feel afraid.
Sometimes I'm afraid of what my fear says about me.
Sometimes I need someone to hold my shaking body,
to cradle the downy softness of my head.
Sometimes I need to bow to the one who carries so much fear,
to the one who carries so much fear about being afraid.
Sometimes that is the fear I hold close to my chest.

Anxiety is an old friend. She has much to say when she appears. Sometimes the fear is in my own body. Sometimes the fear is what I feel in the world around me.

It's not easy to be a human being. And in our interdependence, we're aware of and feel the nervous systems of others. We co-inhabit each other's experiences, and this includes those times when we feel afraid.

I can think of many human experiences that ask for compassion. Fear is certainly one of them. Writing this poem helped me feel less alarmed about the times I feel alarmed.

You can play with your own version of sometimes. You can use the prompt, sometimes I _______ and see what comes next. Then write the opposite. How are you sometimes this? How are you sometimes not?

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With a grateful heart, Karly