I started a fire a long time ago and I let it burn indefinitely. It’s a smoke signal fire and it’s all mine. I started it off in the distance so that if I ever saw it as I was walking through this wilderness I would know to turn around. The funny thing is that I forget, every time, that I started it. Each time, when I see it now, I turn to talk away because I am afraid. What I fail to realize is that it is exactly my fear and the behaviors that stem from my fear that push me to walk away from the smoke. The very smoke that I put in place to warm myself of this fear.
It’s a cycle. It’s tragic. It’s my inability to let go of the past and the negative experiences I had there that keep me from feeling anything new and wonderful.
It’s really quite something.