Today is the last day of the year and the thousandth of previous ones just like it. Ah but this one is different! Today I don’t feel the slow release of poison from my pores. Pent-up stress does not have its grip on me today, which is odd considering I just finished what should have been the most stressful year thus far. This year was certainly the scariest.

I told a student today to stop running from what he is scared of. To be better. Hours later, I realized that I was talking to myself. Not literally, of course. The boy had been there, and I had told him those words. I asked him before he walked out what he is going to do. He replied, “Don’t run from things that scare me.” I added, “And be better.” He left, and I heard those words again hours later when I thought of how I absolutely did not want to continue on this path I’m on. “Don’t run from things that scare you. Be better.”

I don’t have the confidence to realize my potential. I don’t have all the answers and often don’t have the background knowledge necessary to come up with them. I’m afraid of revealing my incompetence. I want to press forward but not at the expense of my dignity.

Don’t run from things that scare you. Be better.

Don’t run from things that scare you. Be better.

I am my own terrified student. If my students knew this about me, they wouldn’t chase after the scary things that I convince them they can achieve. If I have not conquered the scary stuff, myself, how can I lead those who are afraid?

Maximus Meridius, you were scared, too, weren’t you?

Atticus Finch, you aren’t as smart as you seem, are you?

Atticus Meridius is my name. But not really. Not really.

“Reality is the construct of others who can’t function in the absence of boundaries.” I just heard a character on TV say that, written no doubt by someone who lives in fear.

My name is Atticus Meridius, and I am gripped by my incompetence.

Her name is Atticus Meridius, and she is fearless.