About three and a half years ago I was frozen in indecision. Paralyzed by fear. Fear of making the wrong decision. Fear of making a mistake.

my black and white cat likes staring at shiny surfaces like the screen of my computer

I was contemplating adopting a cat, or rather, two cats. We’d lost our 19-year-old Siamese the year before while Matthias was battling cancer.

I waffled for 2 months, drawn to the pair of black and white brothers at the cat rescue, but unable to make up my mind.

black and white cats sleeping entwined on a comfy chair

One of the biggest stumbling blocks for me was that they were already 10 years old.

But I listened to my heart and we did end up bringing them home. They fit right in, getting along perfectly with our pair of rescued ex-racing greyhounds (also litter-mates). Soon it was hard to remember not having them as part of our family.

Last week I shared that Pepper was fading. He passed away Monday night.

a handful of flowers and herbs from my late summer garden

His death made me think of my fear three and a half years ago. Fear, in part, of not having enough time. Looking back, there’s no way I would change my mind about my decision to care for and love these two cats. In fact, if I could go back I’d urge myself to stop waffling and bring the boys home right away.

I’ve been thinking a lot about fear lately. This year I think we’ve all come up against fear time and again.

Our world is in the grips of a global pandemic. There’s so much uncertainty around it. No clear path forward. No clear end in sight. On top of that wildfires are raging. Hurricanes. Racism. Violence. And then there’s the ugliest, scariest presidential race, perhaps in the history of the US.

That’s a lot. A lot that’s out of our control.

Of course, we’re also each faced with many other fears, day to day. Sometimes those fears are about such small things. I was chatting with a friend over email and sharing my fears around a class I’d just signed up for. And then I realized I was focusing on a tiny, little fear so I wouldn’t get sucked down by the bigger ones.

Tiny fears can paralyze us just as easily as big ones. Fear of the blank page, for example. Even now, for me, that fear can keep me from creating. It seems so silly.

inspired by autumn painting maple seeds with watercolor

And so I ask, what’s the worst that could happen?

What’s the worst that could happen if I sign up for a class?

What’s the worst that could happen if I put paint to paper?

What’s the worst that could happen if I open my sketchbook and face the blank page?

What’s the worst that could happen if I submit a design to a contest?

What’s the worst that could happen if I press “send” on my email newsletter?

What’s the worst that could happen if I play with some new art supplies?

What’s the worst that could happen if I fall in love with a 10-year-old cat?

Maybe the class won’t give me all the answers I’m looking for. Maybe I’ll paint an ugly painting. Maybe my sketchbook page will be a “failure”. Maybe my submission will be rejected. Maybe I’ll have people unsubscribe from my mailing list. Maybe what I create with my new supplies will be a big mess. Maybe I’ll have “only” three and a half years of love.

Bad things happen. They happen again and again. They happen no matter what we do. I’m not saying we should be reckless, but we shouldn’t let fear control us. Ugly paintings pave the way for beautiful art. Being a beginner is the only way to begin. Reaching out to others is the only way to make connections. Opening our hearts to love is the only way to find it. Living our lives right now, even in their imperfection, is the only choice we have.

I am so grateful right now. As my sweet, furry friend passed out of my life, he reminded me not to be paralyzed by fear. He reminded me to make the most of each day. He reminded me to love and to live.

Maybe you could use the reminder, too?

Facing Fear