I picked up some Chinese food in Manchester, Vt. last night and I got a fortune cookie (they are all plastic wrapped now because of fear of lawsuits) which read “Fear Can Keep Us Up All Night But Faith Makes One Fine Pillow.” This was unusually sage for a fortune cookie, I thought and relevant for me, as fear kept me up for much of the night and I realized that the best antidote to fear for me is faith.
And what is faith, anyway? Beyond religion, there are a dozen different dictionary definitions of the term. The meaning of faith for me is trust, “confidence or trust in a person or thing.” Faith in me, and my ability to care for myself, to make good decisions, in my ability to write good books, take good photos, be worthy of love and contentment. I have always lacked faith in myself, perhaps this is because I lived with so much fear. I am working hard to change that, and I see that for me, and for so many others, fear is the default position, not faith. When I wake in the night, it is not with stirrings of faith, but stirrings of fear.
I have to stop and work on faith, seek it, accept it, let go of fear as the elemental way in which I look at the world. I like the term “default position” it is a computing term which means the way in which the browser is automatically set to open unless you change it. My mind has always opened to fear and this morning, when I lay trembling in fear, I decided to change the default position to faith, just like the fortune cookie said, and just like I have been working to do for some years now.
I said this: I believe in my self. I am strong. I am competent. I have much love in me. I am healing my fear through faith. Trusting in me. Accepting myself. One day soon, faith not fear will be my default position, the new structure of my thinking, and then I will have changed, much for the better.
It was a balmy 20 degrees this morning when we went out to do the chores. Everybody was relaxed, the frost-free faucet worked, the donkey droppings had not yet frozen into the ground so we could shovel them, the wood stove was warming the house again. A good growl from the young winter. Might top the freezing mark today, we both said it felt like Disney World.
Flo returned yesterday afternoon, appearing by Maria’s side as she went to the barn to feed the animals. We don’t know where she was or where she came from. It seems likely she was sleeping off the effects of the medications she received at the vet Wednesday. I was away from the farm, Maria texted me “Flo’s Back.” I am braced for anything when it comes to a barn cat but I was very relieved to hear the news. We both were. Flo has gotten to me. I admire her smarts, strength and determination. I like the independence of this cat. We have made a connection. She does not strike me as ferocious as Mother, or as affectionate as Minnie. I think we connect though. I am glad she is back. I am prepared for her to disappear one day and never return.
