I feel as though I spend my time running.

Running from something or towards something I do not understand or wish very much to understand, and then running from again.

Life is running.

Running to meet a deadline at work or a self-imposed personal goal which I thought would save me. I have become accustomed to this running, looking for things to run towards while ignoring what I am running from, what I have been searching for without knowing.

Stopping and addressing these fears fully would certainly be easier, tho not without its own special effort. At my current stage in life, running is becoming less of an option, and I find that I am less than able to address these things I run from. What are these things?

• Fear of being lonely

I am certainly not unique in this; it is likely the first of many people’s fears. I remember the years alone in Los Angeles before Mexico. I remember my parents always working. Early in the morning, my mother would kiss me before she left. I would follow her to the door before making myself breakfast, usually some cereal, and then proceeded to get ready for school, which fortunately was only a block away from home. A short, hopefully uneventful walk from the big house we lived in. I had developed an obsession with ensuring I looked good before going to school; the reasoning was that this would reflect well on my parents, even if they were not involved. This all changed when I was sent to Mexico.

I would come back home, alone. The teachers would watch me walk across the street and keep watching me as long as they could until I arrived home. They knew I was alone, and wanted to make sure I made the short walk safely. I would run home from school. The day was then filled with television shows that seemed as inane as any nightmarish boredom I could imagine, or seemingly displaying life in what was another world. Jack LaLane, My Three Sons, Bewitched, Batman, Match Game, and more game shows I would ever care to remember, but yet I do. My parents would then arrive, many times after dark, tired, with little energy to share from their long work day. Father would then sit in his recliner, demand coffee and light a cigarette, it seemed he wanted to just be alone.

TBC