the stifling fear of failure

When I was a teen-ager and on into my 20’s, I didn’t know that what motivated me to action was fear (mostly). At 30, I believed I could side-step it because I was older and far more clever. At 40, I recognized that I couldn’t go around, had to ram my way through it but, dang, that was exhausting. By 50, I was able to look at my heart-stopping fear of loss/not doing/losing my beloveds/dying and not flinch. Now, at 60 just this year, I am sitting next to it on the couch where I can sometimes let it lean into me and we’re quiet together in some awkward semblance of co-existence. It’s not peaceful. It’s not going anywhere, apparently, and neither am I. So, we’re figuring it out together.