#320 – How do you limit yourself by refusing to see?

When you don't face what you know is there, it haunts you.

That's what happened to me this morning. While getting on my bike to go the gym, I saw a large dead possum on the road.

At the gym, I forgot about it but riding back, I realized that I'd need to pass in front of the animal to access the gate. A knot formed in my stomach until, turning the corner, I noticed the road was clear. I breathed, grateful for whoever spared me the sight by removing the dead body.

But when I reached the gate, there it was: someone had taken it from the center of the road to a patch of grass three feet from the entrance to my building.

After catching an unwanted glimpse of the pinkish long tail and the thin claws, I turned my eyes away. But even as I walked to the stairs, that dirty fur and pointed muzzle scared me.

So much so, that when I later needed to go to the store, I plotted how to avoid the sight again. I could make a left instead of a right––even if that meant walking a whole extra block––, close my eyes as I passed by it, or fix my gaze straight ahead.

In effect, I was constraining my life by giving oversized power to my disgust.

Realizing the stupidity of my behavior and baselessness of my fear, I walked by the possum and glanced at it on my way to the store. It wasn't a pretty sight, but it was harmless. Its head was bent, almost humbly. How could that poor being scare me? Instead, I felt I had to honor it. Something in my chest relaxed open.

By refusing to look at the lifeless body on the grass, I'd made up a threat. I bought into the fear and limited my freedom.

But when I faced the reality, I saw it was powerless.

What will you dare to see to shatter one more barrier to your freedom?

Love,

Carolina