intrepid

is perhaps my favorite word. far, far from me now, but still. i like to believe i am an intrepid soul. when i say the honest thing, not the politically correct thing, i don't do it for any reason other than it is the truth. this does not always serve me well, and frankly, i'm tired of being told to be nice. nice does nothing for me, never has, never will. perhaps i need to learn to be political, but why? for what reason, what purpose does it serve? there are politically inclined people in my life. we don't talk politics. it has nothing to do with me. i am told i am a dullard for this. to which i reply,

i'm a specialist. there is much a specialist loses for the sake of their specialty. when i'm around those interested in my specialty, i'm quite well heard. well thought of even.

or maybe i'm deluded. maybe selling out is the only way.

but it can't be. i refuse to give anyone power over my life. i refuse to.

but right now, i'm trembling.

thinking back to something i saw that exemplifies this situation.

a four year old mustang was just acquired by a rather famous horse trainer. that mustang's whole way of survival is to be afraid. be very afraid. ask questions later kind of fear.

when that horse fell into this trainer's hands, he was suddenly in a tribe of creatures and people. the trainer's two dogs raced laps around the horse as he cantered around the arena. it was as if they were dancing, the steps of the hooves and the paws came so close in time.

the trainer dismounts center arena, and the mustang is made to lay down. he does. the dogs approach, and the horse startles mildly, but the trainer is right there. the trainer reassures the horse and the dogs come over, eventually getting close enough to stand on the horse's belly while he lay there on his side completely vulnerable.

the trainer said,

these are predators. this is prey. the only reason this horse is allowing this is because he trusts me.

it occurred to me then that i have never known this kind of trust. i have never been able to allow myself to fall into someone's hands without the worst kind of madness ensuing.

and so, i stay apart. away, fearful. until i can build up enough courage to ask the hard questions and face my fears.

it occurred to me that i need to be my own handler. to protect myself this way. but how? that is always the question.

it has started by drawing lines relationally. by erecting boundaries where they have fallen.

yet it feels so vulnerable, here alone, accountable for and to myself.

there is freedom in it, yes. but there is a whole world of responsibility i have to face, alone.

i am equal to the task. it's just sometimes the irrational fear, the besetting fears won't stop clamoring for attention. and i must tend to them. i must make them go away, but looking them directly in the eye. and trusting myself to know the path i need to take, though the way seems blocked.

it is not blocked. guides come along.

and i want to believe i'm still good at trusting the right people.

but i won't hesitate to admit i've gone wrong, and readjust.

sometimes these things happen. people are unpredictable. and i want only freedom for those around me as well as myself. to be accepted with the unconditional love i freely give. that is my only request. don't cage me. don't climb in and cage yourself. because breaking cages open is tough work. and painful.