IN THE FACE OF FEAR, LAUGH ANYWAY.

Minds, like bodies, will often fall into a pimpled, ill-conditioned state from mere excess of comfort.  – Charles Dickens

And ain't that the truth! But it requires thinking on...or it does for me. Mainly because my initial thought about "an excess of comfort" equals having money. Specifically, more than enough money...like a billion or two. (And, really, wasn't it just yesterday, or the day before at most, that the thought would have been "a million or two?" A whole 'nother story.)

As I note often and often and often, I'm going through a period with my thoughts at 6s & 7s. I assure me it is this long, cold, dreary winter...the political scene...the country's financial brinkmanship. But I know. I know all of those are facts but they are not the reason for my "pimpled, ill-conditioned state" of mind.

The ego-reason I'm feeling fearful is the diagnosis of cognitive decline that both my little guy Ruckus and my mentor have been gifted with. Which opens the door to the unvarnished reason: I'm fighting that short and sharp jab of fear of being left all alone.

It's also known as loneliness.

Now, I love God, and Jesus is a sweetheart of a guy, but I can't snuggle and play kissy-face with either like I can with Ruckus, and I can't pick their brain in that instant when I'm pea-green-purple petrified of making a Big Mistake, like I can with my mentor. Then laugh at myself over it. Laughing at myself all alone lacks that glorious shared feeling of fun, fun in the face of any evidence to the contrary, that I am OK...and loved.

I know, I know...this, too, shall pass.

Please and thank you.