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carrieklees

Murder, She Wrote

Updated: Feb 6

It was a quiet weekend at the beach. No surprise, it was January, and the forecast predicted rain. Yet the sun shined brightly after a few morning clouds, and the temperature reached 65. Yippee!


I walked down to the quiet end of the quiet beach. As usual, I imagined being murdered in this remote spot, and thrown out to sea. That’s the headline: lone woman brutally discombobulated on remote corner of an island.


Whenever I walk alone in desolate areas or in the dark, the headline pops up. I’ve come to welcome the threat with no fear. For one thing, we are generally safe. The likelihood of a maniac discombobulator popping up out of nowhere is highly unlikely. And I vowed long ago to practice courage, which requires the practice of fear.


I struggled with this concept long ago, when I used to wander around the stunning mountains of Virginny, all by myself. I was in a breakdown state—it looked like a mental breakdown, but it always felt like a spiritual one. Whatever the cause, it was not pleasant. In my suffering, I was drawn to the forests, the huge boulders, the babbling brooks. I would spend hours out there engaging in all kinds of weird antics to try to heal some vague but overwhelming malady. In those days, I worried more about the bears than a human maniac. The worry created an urge to avoid the experience. And that’s when I first vowed, “I’d rather be eaten by a bear than worry about being eaten by a bear.” I’ve come to live by those words, in various adaptations. Such as, “I’d rather publish an article then fear the humiliation of it sucking.” Or “I’d rather publish an article than worry that people will think I’m some kind of inadequate, egoic, attention-seeking, know-it-all, etc.” There is no end to the options of fears that can be generated, under the best of circumstances!


I’m so grateful to that crazy me-girl, who stumbled around the woods in a state of pure agony. She was disturbed enough to allow fear to take over. She was well on the way to full-blown, fear-induced inertia, with worries about germs, loneliness, poverty, worthlessness, and the list was growing. She was contracted into a tight nut, with the shell of fear separating her from her life. She was suffering from an ill-conceived effort of trying to control what she couldn’t, while neglecting to control what she could.


The practice of facing fear, taking risks, and engaging courage improves the quality of life. It puts things in perspective. If I’m going to get murdered or otherwise croak at any point in time, I want my death to come in the best quality moment: open, easy, full, and free so that I am doing and living and being exactly what I want to do, live, and be. I want to be fully aware and involved in the moment, and so I try to practice each and every one. It's an experiment, in which I get to practice the best version of myself. Granted, results may and do vary.


Pushing my comfort in various situations has consistently paid off. Taking walks alone (even at night) and traveling alone are some of my favorite things to do, so I’m grateful fear doesn’t stop me. Generally speaking. To clarify, if a situation seems legitimately unsafe, I will use caution. Fear is a response for an excellent reason. But all too often, the things we fear exist only between our ears.


As I reflected about this stuff on my walk, I recognized the day’s reward for my efforts: two hours of uninterrupted yoga, meditation, reflection, entertainment (random pelicans, shells galore, and fishing and/or party boats parading by). I was enchanted by the sweet breeze, blue sky adorned with fluffy clouds, and the warming sun on my bare arms….in January. And best of all, the writer wrote. Writing is the thing I most enjoy, and most fear.


I know for a fact that I would rather be murdered there on that beautiful beach paradise, then worry about being murdered there. Not to mention, it was a perfectly safe adventure, though death can come any time. What a blessing that is!


If the “worse” thing happened and I dropped dead in a pile on the sand under the bright sunshine, it would have happened when the best me (brave, curious, kind, adventurous, authentic) was having the best moment (this one).


And now I will practice courage and fear: hit “publish.”

 

 


 

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