“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.†– Frank Herbert, Dune.
It’s not original to start a post with a quote from a famous author which almost everyone knows, but it’s probably the most appropriate thing that comes to mind. This past year has brought nothing but angst. I’m acutely aware that fear isn’t something that I should wholly rely on to make my life’s decisions. Yet, that awareness isn’t enough to keep me from being mired in it. It’a downer everywhere I look. It manifests in many ways – small and large. Conversation with a coworkers past twilight doing their best to justify utility to an indifferent company. The uncertainty in a drawn-out decision making process that in more mundane times would have been made much earlier. Then I’m reminded of all the hurdles, big and small, that had to be overcome for me to be where I am today. I remind myself of the past when it felt hopeless then just as it does now, and I overcame. It didn’t come “deus ex machine”-like. It took a step here. A hop there. An occasional blind leap grounded occasionally in hazy certainty, and other times on naive faith. The reminder snaps me out of my funk and I do what I’ve striven to do since I was aware of it. Put one foot in front of the other for as many days as I’ve been allotted, so that I can be a witness on the day that something extraordinary happens. I hope I won’t just be a witness when it comes.