I saw this written in a little window on the facade of an Episcopal Church…it stopped me dead in my tracks.
WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU WEREN’T AFRAID
When I read it, I was in deep reverie over owning a dog. I’ve always wanted one but never felt able to handle an animal I’d be so responsible for where I presently live. As I get older though, my yearning for a four-legged comrade increases to fill that longing in my heart.
If I weren’t afraid..of change…I’d move to Brooklyn, my favorite place in the whole world for its beauty and history. Of course the areas I love are as pricy as where I live now, but the thought of relocating in the land of Brooklyn Bridge and Walt Whitman with a pit called Beau or a basset hound named Min, flood my senses like a warm spring rain.
I’ve recently come to know a basset named Carmela who moved across the street. They let her loll in the entrance way of their handsome townhouse a little while each day where I can pet her through the gate. Could be my imagination, but I think she waits for me to gallop over like a kid to come rub those long, velvety ears that tenderly open when I tell her my troubles. She listens intently looking at me, letting me know, she understands.
If I weren’t afraid…of how old and nutty I’d look, I’d grow my hair and let it go gray. No more color once a month…a mere trim twice a year. Yeah I know, long hair ages you, but I wouldn’t care, not being afraid.
If I weren’t afraid…of being judged by others I wouldn’t care what they thought of me. I’d adopt the creed…what you think of me is none of my business. I’d be free to just be myself.
If I weren’t afraid…I’d stop being afraid…of life and her casual curve balls she throws at your head when you least expect it. I’d fearlessly get up every day with a smile on my face to embrace, not dread, what might be coming…
If I weren’t afraid.