Fear - the tale of riding a bicycle

Fear opens forgotten wounds.
Fear makes the possible seem impossible.
Fear paralyses, opening the depths of my soul
to a scalding flood of lies.
My ears are frozen shut
and truth is no longer mine.

With my greatest dreams come my biggest fears.
Dare I dream?
Dare I dig deep, unearthing the tiny seed of hope
the flicker of a spark
shadow of a dawn.
Dare I move?
Dare I dream of a tomorrow,
high hopes
riding into high noon
The tiny flicker
burgeoning into a conflagration of ifs
maybes
and hopefuls.

..................
I rode a bicycle for the first time yesterday. Yes, for the first time in 26 years of living in this world that's brimming over with billions of bikes. A friend of mine offered to teach me, and under her patient coaching, I've managed to hop on the bike and ride, as shaky as it all were, all by myself.
Now, it may not seem like much, but anyone who knows me would agree that God did not choose to bless me in the area of physical coordination when he created me in my mama's womb. What I did on that bike today was a tremendous feat.

Truth be told, I've been struggling with major bouts of fear lately. I've been planning to move to Boston for a while now to pursue multiple degrees in the most prestigious academic institution in the world - and as the days slowly dissipate, the little tides of fear barely licking at my toes have been growing into a tsunami big enough to make me pee my pants. My nights have been rather sleepless and painful.

One of my favorite fears is that I would try my best but produce no results - the fear of discovering that I suck too much to be redeemed by effort.
But yesterday, I did it. I sucked, but climbed back on over and over again in dogged perseverance, and after about thirty-something tries and a sore bum, I began to catch on. Now, I'm even starting to have fun.

Needless to say, this was all God's idea. The night before my friend offered to teach me, I sent out a desperate prayer for God to provide me with a chance to work at and accomplish something, so that I could prove to myself that I could do it if I tried.
My prayer was answered, and my fear stopped being loud and obnoxious.