waver (v).

5aeb083a9f9b69c108c6580ada8d5054I find that I spend a lot of time on the line between one thing or another, daunted by Choice, crippled by Worry, and trembling at the idea that our choices shape us. Is this curve and that edge shaped by a move across the country, this crease from a past relationship and that chip from that all-wrong love, this soft line and the fluid movement I hope to embody a result of practicing forgiveness at one time or another? If I am to pursue an endeavour, will I lose this piece of me, if I pursue the alternative, will a whole new block of heavy cement be added to my bulky structure?

I get so worked up about the shape that will come from my choices that I sit at that line, throwing pebbles to make the time pass. Recently though, I have noticed this shadow behind me getting taller and taller, and I've realized just how much the indecision shapes us too.