Last night one of my worst fears came true.  I spilled red wine on my light grey carpet!!  It didn’t take long for those wonderful anti-oxidants to seep into the fibers, attacking the woven threads.  For a moment I imagined their anti-aging properties renewing my sixteen-year-old carpet, but as the splotches increased in size I quickly realized that only a rapid response would save the family room from unsightly stains.  Incredible how one wobbly wine glass could send its contents splashing to and fro, unsettling a calm and relaxing evening with my husband.

I immediately began a paper towel-patting brigade, while my husband enlisted the carpet cleaner, advancing and attacking in repeated assaults to annihilate the telltale signs of my accident.  Several sighs later, I noticed some stray drips slipping down the doors of the bookshelf from where the glass still wobbled on its side.  Wine silently slid over broken blue glass that had held it in its grasp moments ago.

The stem had taken the thrust of my mistaken nudge, lost its balancing stability and let the glass succumb to the inevitable power of gravity.  Toppling to its side, crashing to the shelf’s surface, rolling to the edge through the spilled wine; the stem remained intact, halted by a coaster, saved from a further fall to the floor.

Funny how we let fears project onto our own screens in our mind.  I know I had repeatedly thought I might spill red wine onto the carpet if I didn’t take precautions.  I usually stacked a raised coaster next to my wine glass to help prevent potential problems. Still the accident happened, the fear became a reality.

Today while Dusty and I walked I let my thoughts linger on the power of fears that might come true.  How often do I stack up obstacles to safeguard against what might or could happen?

For the past six months, I have lived in fear of sudden instability caused by periods of vertigo.  An acute inner ear virus quickly led to vestibular neuritis issues that continue to make me feel like the world spins around me without a center grounding point.  I fear being noticeably wobbly in public, or becoming frantic from an unexpected sound or motion nearby.  Sometimes I feel as if I’ve lost the contents of my very being because I no longer feel safe or sturdy by myself.  I am like a glass of red wine placed carefully on my bookshelf, ready to crash at the slightest nudge.

Despite careful stacks of medication and vestibular therapy, I cannot overcome the dizziness that dares to destroy me.

Some days I wish I could just let go.  Let my worst fear happen, let myself fall, crash, and break into pieces.  Then perhaps like the disappearing wine spots something would attack the vertigo with a vengeance designed to wipe it from existence.  Yes that is the screenplay in my mind, the trailer for my upcoming presentation: “Let Go: Let’s Spin, Let’s Dance.”

After all, when a fear presents itself, it initiates responses:  First protection and defense, when necessary attack and destruction.  Fear heightens the senses; it accelerates the adrenalin.  The center becomes off-balance; the repositioning requires risk-taking.   Fear strikes, wobbles occur, dizziness dances.

What’s the worst that could happen?  I could fall, but I know I will continue to get up, to keep on beginning, to keep on walking.  I might be spinning, but then again, it might look like a Dizzy Dee dance!