Somewhere i lost my courage.
Not sure where.
But it seems to be gone.
I hide at home
and then get bored
and don’t have the guts to change it.

I don’t even know what i am scared of.
Failure?
Hurt?
Not sure.

Maybe i was disappointed too often
“this isn’t it either”
gets tiring.
Sitting on my butt does, too, though.

And it’s not like i don’t try new things.
I do.
Plenty of new things.
Then i hide again.
And i don’t try what i sense i most need:
Letting go.
Whatever that means.
Of stuff.
Of expectations.
Of control.
Of the illusion of safety.

I have done courageous things in the past
one could say.
I left home to move across the pond.
I left an abusive marriage with an infant
while my family was thousands of miles away.
I moved half-way across the country
to a city where i knew one person.
I left a job in the middle of a recession
without a plan.

Maybe i’ve used up all my courage?
Maybe i just misplaced it?
Or maybe it’s time to just let go
without courage
trusting that somehow i’ll get back
onto my feet.
And if not, i have plenty of practice
sitting and licking my wounds.

Right now, in this moment, though,
i am safe.
The danger is in my head.
My fear.
Maybe that’s where my courage went.
To right now.
There’s nothing i have to do
to earn my worthiness.
I am worthy not by what i do
i simply am because i am a miracle^*!

And it feels damn courageous to just say that.
Especially with those voices in my head.
Oh, i love you, too, dear voices!
You, too, are a miracle^*.
A mass of firing neurons
that is self-aware!

* Miracle in the sense of something very improbable to happening, like life itself or any one living thing being born.