One at a time.

Growing weary of the constant idea that I could just blow away on the wind, I am cautiously allowing one or two roots to shoot out from me, into the ground of this life. I am hoping for the knowing that I am anchored to something, somewhere - feeling solid, feeling stronger, growing... Becoming rooted makes me feel a little afraid, simply because it's something I have never done. What if I want to be blown away sometimes? What if nobody waters me, or the sun doesn't shine enough? Will I still thrive, or survive? Will I wilt and shrivel?
The thing is, even though I am a little afraid of all of those things, the need for roots is stronger than that fear. So, here we go. One at a time.