Truly the thing that I fear comes upon me, and what I dread befalls me. –Anonymous

Truly the thing that I fear comes upon me,

and what I dread befalls me. –Anonymous

          When Lorraine saw the quote, written in bold letters on the wall of the apartment,  it flitted through her mind, recalling Bach’s  “We speak best what we most need to learn”  and the one she spoke often to friends, “Worry is a prayer to the negative”  and a book she’d read by Shakti  Gwain, Creative Visualization, and the notion that we call to us the events that occur to us by the thoughts and ideas we lift up.

          There are so many ways to view the world, could not God make one law that stood apart, one way of being that suited everyone so you could tell which was RIGHT and which was WRONG? Ok, so in the Bible, another book Lorraine read frequently, because it held such promise and such weird histories and people, in the Bible, the law, the only law, seemed to be, “love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, all your spirit, and love your neighbor as yourself.” This axiom was repeated several times, different wordings, in several places. So, if the law is, she thought, to love God, love yourself and love your neighbor, the law is love.

          But what if, as the note on the wall stated, her fear of failing others in love, of failing to love herself, made her unlovable?

          UGH!!! Better to feed the cat and get on with life than to dwell in such profundity.

          Reaching for the can opener, her eyes gazed at her wall of quotes, a special place for her alone, filled with personal ideas, the words of Great Thinkers she enjoyed and discovered and as she twisted the opener, solid metal against solid metal, cat intertwining her ankles in a smoothly comforting manner, her eyes fell to the quote she often resided in…

          “do unto others as you would have them do unto you”

        Again, Biblical, but truly one that made her consider her relationships more clearly…did she want Paul to call her again, or to be friendly? He was married, and a true nerd, but so very eloquent with words, his monikers caressing her ego as if his powerfully sensitive fingers were resting against her collarbone, lightly stroking her sensitivities, lowering her guard even as he heated up her intimate creativity…Do unto others, indeed! She placed the cat’s bowl on the floor, stroking the silky fur, her fingers lazily trailing down that polished back, gently sliding up the tail, smiling as the food was devoured with trembling purrs…

          But if she did not play with Paul, did not love him, create fun moments of time that were illicit but also purely pleasurable, would love, intimate love, be hers ever?

          At 29, a professional making good money, living simply with any luxury she desired, would there ever be a man to match her passion for words, her love of cooking and cheap wines, her desire to be filled with…with what? Another? With the sense of connection that comes from complete abandon? …and vulnerability…”Truly, the thing that I fear comes up on me, and what I dread befalls me”…she swallowed the idea, tasting it on her pallet as she poured a glass of wine

          Paralyzed or active, which path to follow, which recipe would lead her to fulfillment?

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