What if?

“What if” is a frightening phrase.
What if, tomorrow, when I’m pulling out of driveway, I don’t see the car coming up the hill?
What if I slip and fall on my way down the stairs, and it’s more than a fall, it’s a break?
What if I spend too much time at my computer, and my eyes die, and my muscles fail?
What if I don’t lift something heavy properly — what if I never do — and the years of mistreatment damage the later years of my life?
What if I try to do something new, and I’m not any good at it?
What if I fail?
What if everything I imagining I’m accomplishing is just another mode of failure? Failure that I don’t even recognize because I’m misperceiving it as success.
What if I try something, and I DO succeed?
What if I succeed, and people come to expect that of me?
What if I succeed, and suddenly, people are relying on me, waiting for me, and suddenly there’s all this pressure and I just can’t deliver because I expected too much of myself and now other people expect too much of me, too?
What if I just give up, and I just live my life rather than trying, like so many people do?
What if I waste my life just trying to get through it, rather than savoring every moment, rather than using all of the time that I have to actually do something I think is worth doing?
What if all the things I think are worth doing aren’t worth doing at all, and I don’t realize that until later, until it’s too late?
What if I let my fears control me?
What if I don’t?

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