She…

She… I call her ‘she’, because first and foremost my character is a ‘she’. I don’t want to give her a name, because ‘she’ can be any female, anywhere in life or in this world or universe.

She walked through the door, hoping for a miracle but knowing deep in her heart she was past being given any miracles. She wondered how much that attitude kept the miracles at bay.

Doors are for walking through, or so she told herself, even though she knew some people used them for keeping people out, or keeping themselves in. She had been one of each of those types of people at various points in her life. Currently, she was about finding ways to walk through them, no matter how scary she imagined it would be on the other side.

Today, at least, her fear didn’t keep her immobilized. It only marginally effected her digestive system. Thank god, nothing pushed her stressors like the last job she had and had to quit. She had lost ten pounds in just the two weeks following her training when she had started to actually do the job she was trained to do. She could never hold a job like that, not because she wasn’t smart enough but because she physically couldn’t handle the stress any more.

Two major life changes, possibly leading into a third, and she had reached her physical limit to containing and managing stress. At home, she did things she loved doing and utilized them to learn what she could about herself and to let go of the things she could not change.

Today, opening and walking through the door, was a symbolic act of where she was in life. Would this act alone bring her what she needed? Would it give her any relief to the worries and fears her life now contained? What could she do differently that would bring about a solution she was able to live with? Or was she already in that place?

That was the big question. Did she already have what she needed? Was she just making things seem worse than they really were? How could she ever know what was the truth and what was just made up in her own head?

She has always been the type of person who could see the whole range of possibilities from any given action or decision to be made. Most times, the ability, to do so, aided her in making a choice that she could live with and in some cases really feel happy about. On the rare occasion, that talent would cause her more angst than she wanted in her life.

Today was one of those days, or should she say, the past year has been one of those times. It was one of those times when the hard, the difficult, the more worrisome parts of her vision overpowered the truly wonderful possibilities.

Walking back out the door a few hours later, and nothing had changed. Well, that isn’t really true. What had changed was having to face facts. She couldn’t sit on her butt hoping someone would throw her the bone of her dreams. She would have to work for what she wanted.

She knew deep down what she wanted. She knew with all her heart. Would she be able to make it happen? Would she have the stamina required? Would she be able to open her heart and soul to the possibility and embrace it wholeheartedly? And the biggest question of them all. Would she be able to be open to embracing the challenges that would come her way as learning and growing experiences to aid her journey instead of seeing them as obstacles to make her fail or give up?

Getting into her car, looking at the gas gauge, seeing it so near empty, was so representative of where she felt she was in her life right now. It reminded her of how an optimist sees a glass as half full, and a pessimist sees a glass as half empty. She had always been the half empty type. Knowing this would not serve her, she decided it was time to change perspective. Even that seemed daunting.

In reality, there was only a small amount of room left for going down. Looking down was no longer an option. Everything she does from now on would be only done to lift her up, to see her next step as going forward upon the trail she was now blazing for herself. Well, blazing was a rather strong term, it was more like treading, leaving behind small footprints barely reflecting her passage.

She wasn’t out to change the world as everyone else knew it. She was out to change only her small significant world she lived within. That in itself was daunting enough.

 

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About Kate Spyder

I'm a creative individual finding her way in her writing. I enjoy expressing my deep thoughts through poetry and stories. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy writing them.
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