And then we die.

I think: why are we all so afraid of letting people in? Telling the truth? Risking our feelings, our fears? Sticking it all out there? Helping each other understand. And care. For that is true intimacy.

Most people are shut down, terrified of someone getting in there. Afraid to express joy or sadness. Fear of what exactly?

I had a long conversation with someone tonight. We are not afraid to express our troubles, our thoughts, our fears to each other. And we did. We talked about the fear of making decisions. The terror we feel when loved ones suffer in self-imposed isolation. The fear of letting go. Looking into the void. Contemplating the unknown. We had each let go of businesses recently and find other issues surrounding those decisions grabbing us by the throat. How to stand firm. In his case, how to say no to the new owners leaning on him and being disrespectful. In my case a few issues around the financial impact of my particular revenue stream vanishing. Fear of the unknown again. Because there's no impact yet. So what use is my worrying and anticipating?

It's good to air the inner laundry, to hang it all out and begin to laugh even. An old adage I heard once was if you walk into a room of trusted friends and everyone agrees to share and exchange their troubles, at the end of the evening you gladly pick up your own again and walk out of the room feeling grateful.

What triggered this odd wee post? I have a strong desire to heal relationships that have gone sideways. No idea why they've gone that way. All I know is that most people don't reveal their inners: their hurts and disappointments or feelings of rejection, their love.

I had the oddest dream last night. Where I was sitting in my childhood home around the dining room table in the gloaming with the family and I lit many candles to 'light the darkness' as I explained to my father. Very calmly, he told me to leave the room, that I was banished from the table. I sat down at the piano in the front room and played some Mozart and felt overwhelmingly happy. And then I woke up.

And I found the dream rather profound on many, many levels.

A sense of urgency is good. A sense of our time here being so finite. And unfinished business is baggage I don't need.

Make some heavy decisions, I sez to myself. Risk, I sez. Action plan, I sez. Now, I sez.

And myself listened.