On worries (poetic one)

I’m very happy with my life even though I worry about everything.

Most of the stuff I’m worried about boils down to different worries of different ways of losing what I have.

I’m incredibly thankful.

Feeling like that tigress 🐅 I wrote about.

Feeling that life is akin to a big body of water I’m gracefully surfing it all the while fully aware of the sharks and the stingrays and the horrors down deep, wondering if I’ll be able to climb back up if I lose my footing and plummet down.

Wondering if I’m too focused on the horrors of the water, that I’ll be smitten by a lightning strike because I looked down, not up.

Wondering if you aren’t supposed to look forward when surfing.

I would never surf it does not appeal to me at all, but it’s a figure of speech.