Third Option

A while back, I wrote a post on acrophobia. Fear of heights. About being half-way up a cliff, and not knowing how to keep climbing, and the paralyzing fear of falling.
And today, I was rereading Sandman. I opened Fables and Reflections and the very first bit is a guy who's afraid of heights having a dream about climbing a cliff. He's explaining his fear to Morpheus, who informs him, "It is sometimes a mistake to climb. It is always a mistake never even to make the attempt. If you do not climb, you will not fall. This is true. But is it that bad to fail, that hard to fall? Sometimes you wake, and sometimes, yes, you die. But there is a third alternative."
There's more going on than I've explained. But my point remains: I am tired of paralysis. I am over it. I am still afraid, but seriously, the fear is not helping. Neither is the stillness.
Movement, then, is the only option. And hopefully, the third alternative.
Off to the art journal and hopefully to the supermarket for cake-baking supplies. I've chosen George's b-day over the spring fire show, and I don't regret it or feel bad. Either I've gotten a life, or I've gotten more mature. You pick which seems less unlikely.