A sobering thought

Lately I have been harboring an interesting and slightly disturbing thought, one that still finds itself on the cusp of the recesses of my brain, and I can't seem to shake it. The thought, more or less, is this: why am I increasingly reticent concerning things I enjoy? Why haven't I played softball in two years? Why haven't I played the piano for so long? Why am I content to stay in a position where my creativity is completely squelched? Am I that indolent? Am I afraid of something? What, then, am I afraid of?

I think I have begun to unravel this conundrum at least slightly, and I think that a lot of it boils down to fear. The fear that I won't be as great as I used to be (well duh, if I haven't practiced Beethoven's Pathetique in awhile, there's no way in heck I'm gonna be able to do a chromatic scale or even remember it all) coupled with the fear of the unknown (the thought that all of the time and effort I put into something will amount to nothing).

Don't get me wrong, I am thoroughly content with the life I have been blessed with (more than content, actually, THRILLED beyond comprehension is more like it), but I wonder if I'm doing enough to demonstrate my gratitude for this gift. We've been instructed to share our talents with others and to develop them as best we can. So maybe my deepest fear is that whatever I do won't be enough in the eternal scheme of things. Maybe this is a way that Satan has permeated my subconscious, trying to lead me to believe that I don't matter. Or it could be the OCD coupled with the BC. Maybe both.

It just feels good to get these thoughts out in the open, so I can finally stop succumbing to my inner fears and insecurities and be the tough chick I know I can be.