Losing What I Think I Have

One of my fears is I’m going to lose something
I think I have.
My time.
My health.
A relationship.
My money.
My place.
My influence.
Someone’s approval.
The story changes.
The structure doesn’t.
I know this one well.
I feel it when plans shift,
and I act like something has been taken from me.
I feel it when someone changes,
and I start clinging to an older version of what we had.
I feel it when my body doesn’t respond the way it used to,
and I realize how much of my confidence
was built on conditions.
That one gets really fast.
What this fear reveals:
I confuse my familiarity with my ownership.
What I’m used to
starts to feel like what belongs to me.
My experience continues to reveal that what I call mine
is more accurately described as
what has been provided.
My health.
My relationships.
My time.
My influence.
All of it can change.
Some influence isn’t the same as control.
If I were in control, those things would look different.
Be different.
Stay the way I want them to stay.
They don’t.
That doesn’t make them unreal.
It makes them on loan.
The fear says,
I am losing what is mine.
The reality feels closer to:
I am being reminded that I was never in control of keeping it.
That hurts and it helps.
Lie #1 says I will lose what I think I have.
What I call mine is more accurately described as
what I’ve gotten used to.