Addiction

I have a good friend (everyone should) whose life wandered parallel to mine for some years. We were founding members of the pagan group called Prism Circle in Colorado together. He was, and is, a bright-eyed, long-locked Pan on the outside, but internally his mind whirs away making connections, predictions and calculations. He's complex. He runs the numbers.
Every year at the end of October Samhain rolls around, the NeoPagan New Year. We spend some time ruminating on what has been and pondering what could be, and (if we're brave enough) we calculate the difference and get rid of the excess to make room for what we need. Permanently. No take-backs. It's scary, cutting bits out of your psyche. It's not done lightly.
Anyway. Back to this friend.
The first year we celebrated Samhain as a group, we all announced what we were giving up. Say it, mean it, make it real. I heard "smoking", "ten percent of my income," "my second car," and "self-pity," among other things. And then it was his turn.
"What do you leave behind?," the Fool asked him. "What do you cast away?"
"Fear," he said.

That year he started working with the theatre. He started singing again, acting, building sets. He lost weight, he gained friends.

The next year at Samhain, we were around the fire again. "What do you leave behind?"
"Taking my anger out on my spouse." "My anger towards my ex-husband." "The job I didn't get." And again, he said, "Fear."

That year he left the job that had been over-working him for years. He had no other means of support. He worked in his garden, he traveled. He fell in love, fell out of love, and volunteered with many local organizations.

I couldn't be with the group this year for Samhain, and I missed them. But while I was doing my own introspection, determining what I needed to leave behind, I heard his voice. "Fear." He said. Every year he gets a little closer, lets a little more of it go. Every year I like him better. What would you do if you weren't afraid?

Try it and see.