The most common response to “I’m nervous!” is “that’s normal!”.
It’s normal and it’s not wrong but it can still go both ways. I can let it press into me and erode my sensibilities, it can be a slippery ride down from here to familiar roads of self-deprecation and low self confidence. Or I can press into my nervousness and use it to harness truths about what defines me and what should really matter.
I’ve been thinking lately that hating myself is really the cowards’ way out. It’s easy to hate myself. It’s hard to forget about my silly old self.
Things that cling. The high places that remain. You think you’ve destroyed them but they get rebuilt almost by instinct. By first nature.
I want to put on my second nature.
To learn it.
I am nervous because I am not trustful. I am nervous because I have believed that I am currently at the center of a story which is all about my self-fulfillment and personal advancement. I am nervous because something threatens to derail my plans. I am nervous because it matters that people have a reason to admire and praise me. I am nervous because I am not rooted.
Oh well. Nervous self off to bed.