Waiting For a Response

Forty-four hours after sending the email, and I had not heard from him.  Now, I sent the email on a Saturday afternoon and it’s just 1 pm on Monday, but my lizard brain was squirming with the flight response.  

I was looking for a way out.  

“Maybe it went to spam.  “Maybe he thinks I’m crazy or he really doesn’t like me.”  

Oh, the stories I can conjure up on behalf of a non-response. 

Then, there is the other side, the side ready to be a beginner, to learn, to grow, to practice and to fail.  I have no dreams of glory.  I do have dreams of greater mental discipline, greater physical control and better health.  I have dreams of not freezing up every time I’m in the middle of a conflict.  I dream of this new scary venture with anticipation and hope. 

Perhaps this is what every new venture holds--promise and fear, hope and anticipation.  

Maybe I’ll meet some new people on a similar journey.  Maybe these people will become friends?  Maybe I’ll find a new refuge for mind and body along with the others I’ve developed in daily meditation and writing. 

Maybe I’ll just get mangled.

At the moment, it’s all a dream, or a nightmare, waiting on an email reply.