Journal Entry 11.17.23

As the intensity and clarity of my work in communities recede, doubt begins to creep in. It is an old habit. It is what I know, it is where the grief started. So I have to reject it. Not the doubt that provides an opportunity to look closer, to change direction, to reassess, view things differently, but the doubt the breaks me down and undermines my confidence and makes me question if I have any value at all. Here is where I have to pay attention, be my own map, be the storyteller. I need to decide the direction of the tale, whether or not the heroine will be broken down in this cycle or arise triumphant. I must decide what happens with this tale with this map.