In the garage at my parent’s house, you can still get your hands on the ice that builds up in the small freezer box inside the refrigerator. If you open it up, it is filled with something similar to hard frozen snow, but it’s not snow. It’s an old refrigerator that looks similar to an Airstream mobile home. Luckily I know it’s not and don’t attempt to jump into it. One time I was figuring out a performance for my small theater in Chicago. It was called “COLD”. I had the brilliant idea of popping out of the refrigerator. I had to see if I could fit inside, close the door, and maintain the element of surprise. I took everything out of it, shelves and all. It only occurred to me as I was just about to close the door….that no one was around to open it. It was one of those moments when one small decision could change the course of your entire life. In this case, it would have been a swift about face back to Jesus.
My parents have the extra frig strictly for soda, beer, and 2 box o’ wines…one zinfandel for my Mom, one burgundy for Dad. There is a sack of cornmeal from the Old Graue Mill, lemon juice concentrate, cranberry sauce, bacon fat, and olives. These are the constants. Other odds and ends come and go, but nothing you could really eat, except for the ice. I am not sure why, but I have no ice build-up in my current freezer. I think it is self defrosting, but it’s just a guess. A good guess, but a guess nonetheless. You’d think I would know these things since I did buy the frig myself, but I don’t. Growing up, we always had a lot of ice build up in our freezer. I seem to remember the defrosting process being quite an ordeal. My mom always said that the ice build-up was a direct result of us opening and closing the door too much. I don’t think they had self-defrosting back then and although we accepted the blame, it didn’t stop us from constantly standing there with it open. Hence, the freezer snowstorm abounded, fast and furious.
I know I wasn’t into eating the ice, for sure. I know one of us kids used to eat it, but it wasn’t me. I was afraid I might get pneumonia. I didn’t know what it was, but it sounded bad enough for me to want to avoid it. I was afraid most of my childhood. As far back as I can remember, I was stuck in anticipation of the awful…..always waiting for the next “shoe to drop”. I wonder if one of the primary components of procrastination is fear. In fact, I am sure it is. Fear that the experience is going to be uncomfortable or even painful, fear that I won’t do something right, or perfect, fear, fear, fear! Fear is so often about something that has not even happened and may never happen. This seems so unnecessary, but yet so difficult to overcome.
Fear holds the illusion of protection. Somehow if I am always “on guard” nothing can touch me. This type of fear could prevent me from moving forward. It fosters so many reasons why I might put something off for a day, a year, a lifetime. Often times what lies underneath each and every reason, even the seemingly logical ones, is fear. I find it kinda sad. I have spent a lot of time analyzing it, shaking it up and down. I don’t want to allow it to stop me anymore. Allow it to keep me saying “one day” I will do blankety-blank. “One day” I will do X, Y, or Z. “One day” I will say what I feel, do what I love, be who I am. I don’t want to wait here any longer for the fear to go away so I can make my move. I act my way to freedom. I Honor My Truth!
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