Ally
The day you ran from the moose,
lurching off the trail to crouch behind
trees,
everything changed.
I don’t mean you were trampled —
outside of your mind, that is —
you know, the way people are
in Alaska.
I don’t mean either that you
became enlightened,
embodying
the moment before
fear
stole your breath,
when you were stilled, face to face
with the moose,
both of you
surprised and at first
unalarmed.
I mean instead that you
finally perceived how
fear —
that ancient,
ancestral,
instinctual response —
could be
your ally.
Listen.
This matters.
For so long you have resisted it,
hiding,
avoiding,
relenting.
You have actually found ways to fear
your fear.
You find danger
everywhere.
It’s not your fault,
nor your nature.
You ponder if
maybe,
had you managed to stay
right there,
in front of that moose —
her steaming exhale,
her velveted ears,
her eyelashed gaze —
maybe
fear did not belong.
You wonder: had you stayed relaxed,
would the moose
have done the same?
I know why you ask.
There is love in that question,
and we all ponder love.
But wait,
look closer.
You are here because
fear actually
fits
that moment.
I mean, instead of every moment.
Can you see how
fear
gave you this story,
and the chance
to tell another?
Turn towards this agile ally.
You do not walk life’s edge
alone.
Fear connects us all
when given this narrow space.
Here it belongs balanced
on this knife-like ridge,
this serpentine arete.
Fear is a trusted spine running
between each breathless, stunned moment,
where before meets
after,
and you
and moose
and all things
are bound together.
This is beautiful, Tricia.
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Tricia I adore this piece…it speaks to me deeply. I can’t even pick one phrase. Thank you!
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Wow! Beautiful and powerful! I love it Tricia!
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Love this, Tricia!
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Love the thought of fear being an ally!
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