My sense as I go through various activities runs along the lines of well, this is the last time I'll do this for a while. Also, my underlying fear of dying from this whole experience has kicked back up. (Not like the mortality statistics are exactly uplifting at the moment anyway.) So sometimes I find myself thinking well, I may never do this again.
It's not that my fundamental optimism has faded, nor my energy and drive. This is like a layer of fear lacquered over that. The Fear, perhaps, spread micron thin and contaminating everything. A reaction to the increasing inevitability of this process. I'm still a bit abstracted from my core emotions, and spending the past two weeks with
Originally published at jlake.com. |