Airing My Soles

I don't fear failure. I really don't. I've failed enough to make it an art form.

What I fear is success. I fear achievement beyond my wildest dreams, and trust me, those are dreams of epic proportion.

It's not even the success that I fear so much as I fear... then what. Then what happens? Then what do I do? What do I go after once I've succeeded? What dream to I chase after that?

I fear that once I succeed I'll be bored with success.

Isn't that ridiculous. Yes. It is.

Even so, I want out of that fear. I want to cut myself free from the ropes of worry that bind me and hold me back. I want to release myself from the cloying quagmire of unrealized dreams.

I want to be far away from the who (I am) of today.

That, to me, would be true success. In reaching beyond those dreams, in stepping past them, in.... hmm... forward movement of any kind is success.

I get it. It's more than scraping muck from my boots and moving on. It's leaving the boots behind altogether.

And I'm not afraid to go barefoot. Because, then what...?

Then I get to feel the wind beneath my feet.