Thriller

 Want to listen to MJ while you read?

There are things of which I am afraid.  Not all of them are reasonable, but I hope that most of them are - that I am not a bundle of unfounded fears.

I am afraid of pickup drivers who tailgate on icy roads.  I am afraid of walking downhill in stilettos.  (Laughing?  Try it!)   I am afraid of Walmart on Black Friday. As a child, I had a strange fear of volcanoes. Yeah, volcanoes.  Living in the shadow of Mt. Rainier was probably not the issue. It was more likely some innocuous science lesson in kindergarten that lead me to believe they could spring up overnight and BAM!  Hot lava everywhere.  I even remember watching in brief horror as a broken sprinkler line caused a small patch of grass to suddenly swell and reach menacingly skyward - about a foot.  When my father stomped on it and ash didn't spew forth, I knew I was saved.  Oh, and then there were the gorillas.  Yeah, I sort of thought they hung out in my basement.  I don't think I really believed it, but it was a frightening image I probably enjoyed inflicting on my young self.  Drama queen in training.

Volcanoes and gorillas hold no power over me these days.  Should I come face to face with either of them, that would be another story, but in my tame urban existence, I feel pretty immune to their destructive powers. In fact, I feel immune to most dangers.  I don't think I'm any more protected from crime, natural disaster or random disease than anyone else, it's just that most people are not victims of those things, and those who are can only do so much to protect themselves.  I wear my seat belt and lock my front door and don't write my pin number on my debit card.  I'm careful, but I refuse to live in fear.  I refuse to make up things of which to be afraid.  

I will flash my lights whenever I please.  Should I want to buy perfume from someone in a parking lot, I'll do it.  I will read notes placed on my windshield and listen to little old ladies who ask for help.  I'm told there are no documented cases of apples with razor blades in them.  Not one.  Yes, there are bad people out there, no question.  But there are enough real boogie men that I don't need to invent my own fake ones.

Maybe I'm naive.  I prefer to think I'm logical and bit skeptical.  I'm unwilling to personalize every possible disastrous scenario, or believe every imagined internet threat, or that your average smooth criminal is as clever as the writers of  popular TV crime dramas.   Reasonably protecting myself is a choice, as is being unreasonably afraid.    I want to spend more time celebrating the good in life instead of fearing what's hiding under the bed.  I'll have no guarantees, regardless of how fearful I am, but I'll have fewer worry lines on my forehead.  Now, that's something I'm afraid of!