There is nothing quite like describing an emotion or feeling with a metaphor, especially a well-constructed and timely metaphor.
Usually my metaphors are so complex that I spend more time explaining what I mean and less time sitting in awe of the connection between images and emotions.
But last night, I hit pay dirt with this simple metaphor for how I am feeling: I am the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz, standing in the middle of the forest, with my axe in hand, unable to do my job because I am rusted in place, and the only way to be free is from the action of another person.
I am surrounded by possibility. I have the ability and the means, but I am frozen with fear and inertia.
I have rusted in place and all I can do is wait for people to oil my hinges while I ask this question over and over:
Why didn’t I leave when I saw the clouds rolling in?