korkmaz git

life is not what I thought it would be. it's much more extreme.

it's louder, scarier, more brilliant, bigger, sunnier, brighter, cloudier. it's sadder, hotter, more gratifying, angrier, quieter, kinder, more violent, messier. it's excruciatingly painful, lopsided, vibrant, laconic, inexplicable, awesome, powerful, sweet, disarming, luminous, completely unpredictable, disheartening, humorous.

life is invigorating and exhausting: full of reasons to get up each morning, filled with reasons to collapse into bed at night and wish to never get out.

of everything life's presented me with, the most challenging for me has been overcoming fear. grief and loss are terribly difficult, but somehow I think fear is worse. they can all be debilitating, but with grief and loss I know that time--a great deal of time--and continuing to connect with joy will get me through them, eventually.

fear, on the other hand, demands action. time does nothing to dispel it, connecting with joy doesn't help, either. fear must be faced, acted upon, dealt with, or it will just keep hanging around, lying on your couch eating bon-bons, getting bigger and bigger.

I face little fears all the time, conquering them, squishing them under my boots. we all do. life is full of events, people, and situations that stir up little fears. they have to be faced. I don't like it, but I like the alternative even less.

so I've adopted this little saying, am tucking it under my arm and carrying it around with me: korkmaz git. translated from turkish, korkmaz git means he goes and is not afraid.*

I plan to keep going; I will not let me be afraid.

because life is too big, gorgeous, bountiful, vital, breathtaking, magical, stunning, astonishing, warm and ultimately, when you just keep going, gratifying.

korkmaz git.

I will if you will. well, actually, I will no matter what. join me.

*paulo coelho, aleph, 2011