Pay Attention
words within a morning
It’s OK to be afraid
To not know
We don’t have to wait till it’s ‘solved’
Or goes away
It may not ever be
Solved
Or go away
Life can still be good
It takes practice to keep moving forward
With fear hanging around
So don’t wait for it to “go”
That’s a trick to keep you still
Scared and waiting …
Love yourself enough to move on
Your way
Any way
©Lecia Papadopoulos 2025
Where’d this poem come from?
I’ve been excited and stressing about moving. Especially when I found an apartment I really like the other day and applied. And ai-yai-yai! Up sprouted a very noisy, worry-wort interior monologue attempting to pre-control for all the potential failure points …
… are my finances good enough
… who else’ll hire this old lady
… how will i stay centered with all the crap most jobs have
… not to mention seo
… omg, there’re so much to research
… now, now … don’t panic … you’ve done this before
… but not now, not with the world falling apart and me still chasing energy levels I haven’t seen in a few years …
… … …
So I did something generous for myself …
I stopped.
I took that hysterical part of myself’s hand and we sat down.
I said, “It’s okay.”
She kept going, “But we don’t have enough … and we’re not fast anymore … and ….”
I nodded, “Yeah, maybe, but … shh.”
So we sat there together. Just breathing.
Squirrels scampered briefly up on the roof. A car drove by outside. I recalled the two swallows who were dismayed to find their old nest, formerly plastered to a window near the front door of this house, gone. And their many, many trips to try to find it or rebuild it. Their awkward perches on narrow siding frames, just their split tail feathers visible through the window where I sat paused for a moment from some research foray. Their quarrelsome chirping and hours-long fluttering continued for three days before they disappeared. Presumably to another homesite.
Like I’m in the process of doing. Moving. Hopefully forward, I find myself thinking, like an automatic saliva response. What makes me think forward is better than sideways or over or around ... ? And perhaps unlike the swallows, I’m not new to the game of moving.
I let out my breath, as if the thought had never struck before. Shoulders softened, and I could feel my body weight redistribute. The need to run somewhere NOW had passed.
That’s when I could cognitively recognize that I’m terrified about this transition back into the world after two years dealing with medical crapola. I’ve learned over these two years and more that this cognitive dissonance isn’t new for me. On the contrary, I’ve lived life as a terrified person for a long time, and though I’ve learned a lot about it over the past few years it still can catch me by surprise.
It’s like working layers and layers of paint off an old chair. Each layer has its own flavor and is so unlike the others, it can be misread as the actual chair. But not so. This particular layer of terror was about movement in all its aspects: acceptance by others, financial constraints, the challenges of standing out, etc.
But as the exhale came through, I knew …
… movement is just … movement
… it has to flow, not be held for later or rushed for nownownow
… fear is temporary … unless I hold onto it
… trying new things … is never a sure bet
… or if it is … I’m playing small
… and that eventually gets boring
… I’m brave enough … to handle whatever comes my way
… I give others the grace … to make their own decisions and respond as best for them
… maybe I get it; maybe I don’t … either way, I learn and grow
By then, my inner panicker had calmed down. I scribbled out the poem. And when I stood up it was as one person again, not an angry, scared committee. Both my feet were four-square on the floor: toes and heels connecting up strong and straight to brand-new hips ready to move in whatever direction the caring-loving-me-self chooses. And whatever happens next, well …
… we’ll deal with that, then …
Thanks for reading this far!
I’d love to hear your thoughts; they’re like flowers, spread them round but be gentle.
