If I had no fear . . .

I would step lightly through a misty forest, listening for the movement of a squirrel, a deer, a bear and I would stand still in the echo of it.

I would sit in a canoe and paddle out, out far into the waters and feel the Gulf breezes wisping over my face, my hair, my hands.

I would perch on a boulder on the edge of a cliff overlooking a river-cut valley and become one with the howling wolves.

I would not apologize for nor rationalize all the books I own that climb walls and cluster on the floor and fill several bookcases with all their beautiful words.

I would jump into my creative life with no trembling about money and bills, and with that would come a sense of freedom.

I would believe that I have value, that who I am and what I have to say is welcomed in the world. And I would have no need to hide behind a facade.

I would laugh with the joy of life instead of breathing in a deep, dark abyss that follows me from my childhood.

I would watch myself become someone I don't know, someone strong and vibrant and confident, a woman worthy of love.

I would become like the flowers I draw -- delicate, wild, alive, intricate, sometimes colorful, sometimes simply playful.

If I had no fear.