Everywhere I turn lately I find common themes: have the courage to admit what you truly want, put it out into the Universe, try your best to go in that direction, and believe that good things will come. Sometimes you don't even have to believe; just wishing is enough. I've seen it here, there, everywhere, and again, once more, and even here. (I'm not sure what my word of the year is, but it may be Pentecost. I haven't committed my Mondo Beyondo list to paper yet, but it's brewing and I'm getting up the courage.) I was feeling happier, more focused, and more enthusiastic than I had in ages.
Then last night I admitted that I'm terrified that it will all come crashing down; that certain life circumstances will overwhelm me with sadness, loneliness, bitterness; that the depression monster I keep so secret will drag me under the bed and devour me.
So I threw an embarrassing fit of despair this morning. I did my best to ruin the whole damn day. But for once, thank God, the light is pushing out the darkness.