Anxious

I could be looking down the barrel of a cannon. Perhaps it's the workings of a tired mind, the struggle to sleep last night was beyond a battle. No matter how I studied, there was so much more to know. Lost in a sea of atlases, notes, annotations, drawings and tears; I sat on my floor, treading water and keeping just above the waves.

But... tomorrow I could find myself taking a big, salty gulp. So I've spent the day, on and off, contemplating what would happen should I become a "failure." 

First and foremost, failing would mean that I had tried something worthwhile. I had a shot, and I tried. Failing would mean being blasted out of what I thought I knew, my comfort zone completely obliterated. But comfort comes at the sacrifice of growth. So if the boom should come, I could grow more in ways that would I never imagine.

Failing... would mean I could go home... My husband and I could be close to our families. We could go back to our church. I would have failed, lived, and prospered. 

So is failure the worst? Is failure going to brand me? Will I look back and just be happy that I tried? Will I fail? It's just a bunch of questions... But it's all ok. "The sun comes in the morning."

The End

2 comments about this work Feed