Remember my fear of being blown into the Grand Canyon?

This is me last Saturday.

Notice the wind mightily huffing and puffing to blow me down.

Which just goes to show –

Last post I confessed my lifelong fear of being blown by a sudden gust of wind into the depths of the Grand Canyon (thus the reason I have lived north and south of the big GC and never stopped to visit). Nine days later I’m fighting to keep my footing at eleven thousand feet on the saddle of Mt. Timpanogos. The wind reached its blustery hand into my jacket pocket and stole my stash of Kleenex, releasing the fragile tissue to be teased, whipped and torn to confetti along the streams of gusting current. I thought of every person I knew in the Utah Valley, and wondered if they would catch me should I become blustery tissue paper.
Last post I also typed out my online confessional, my fear of public writing.
I surrendered my safe hideout as a closet writer.
I hit “publish” and voila, people, real people, read my writing. Aaaahhhh.
(Thank you for reading. Thanks for taking the time. I am terrified and grateful.)

I see a pattern here.Let me try this…

Did you know that?

I have a fear of money, lots and lots of money.

Let’s get a visual on that – the power of one thousand words.

There you go cyber world. Take that and run with it.

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