Avoidance

I am an old friend.

Tried and true.

My name is Avoidance.

And I’m here to protect you.

Always there to keep you from harm,

in all the places it may find you.

Should discomfort arrive as you anticipate the blank page that calls you to write,

I’ll keep you from picking up the pen.

Should disappointment creep in when you feel your achievements have fallen short,

I’ll keep you from connecting to what matters most in the first place.

Should heartache beat you down after losing so many loved ones,

I’ll attach your heart to someone who doesn’t know how to love so the pain will never take you by surprise again.

I’ve got your back.

I’ll confuse, confound, distract, and numb.

Whatever it takes to keep you from

discomfort, disappointment, and heartache.

Dear friend,

Thank you for being there.

You have never let me down.

But here is the thing.

The protection you have so lovingly provided,

that is meant to keep me from harm,

also keeps me from living fully.

That kind of protection lacks discernment.

You see, not all discomfort is bad.

I need it to venture and grow.

Not all disappointment is to be avoided.

As it can teach me things, provide perspective, build resilience, and connect me to what matters most.

Not all heartache is bad.

Without love, there is no heartache. Love is worth the risk.

I don’t need to be protected.

I need to be vulnerable.

I need to risk failure.

I need to risk disappointment.

You can trust that I know the boundaries.

And should I stumble and fall, I will get up again ever stronger.

So, thank you dear friend.

And farewell.