I just had the strangest, but most revealing, revelation I’ve had in a while.

It was this: I. am. scared.

Yes. Scared.

It went down like this:

I was watching a TEDx event and thought, Wow. Wouldn’t it be cool to teach one of those someday? To have something worth sharing with other people that would inspire them and nudge them toward greatness?

And then I thought, I couldn’t. I have nothing to say. At least not confidently and passionately anyway.

That’s when the revelation came.

I am, scared to death of my life.

Any confidence that creeps out these days is feigned effort.

The thing is though … I used to be confident. I used to live with passion. I used to be strong and totally kick-ass. I used to have plans. I used to believe I was awesome. I used to be fearless.

Used to.

Used to.

Used to.

But the last 18 months I’ve been holed up in a dank cell of fear.

Fear that anything I try with any heart will collapse in failure like my job did.

I mean, the only reason you lose your job is because you’re not good enough. You’re replaceable. Someone can do it better. You failed.

I failed.

My biggest fear realized.

Seriously.

When I lost my job, the “boss” (intentional use of quotation marks) who did it stripped me not just of my position but of my fight, of my confidence, of my belief that I was someone with purpose, doing purposeful things with greatness.

I lost, so much that day.

And in the aftermath, I haven’t moved. At least not intentionally anyway.

Yes, I’ve tried this and I’ve tried that. I’ve done this and I’ve done that. And I have loved so many of the things I’ve done. I have. I also feel so blessed, please know, for the opportunities God has given me–signs, in a sense, that I do still have talent and creativity and greatness and ability.

But I’ve lacked any and all passion.

And pouring passion is what I fear.

I’ll have a Coke on the rocks with a twist of timidity, pleaseandthankyouverymuch.

Staying wrapped up in a cocoon of non-deliberate living means living a life of minimal risk, minimal hurt, and minimal loss.

Now don’t go all “advice-y” on me. I know that I don’t want that kind of life, or rather, this kind of life forever.

Passion is what I want.

For now though,

I’m still licking my wounds.

And just knowing why I’m cowering is enough for me right now.