In Slouching Toward Bethlehem, Joan Didion wrote:

“I know something about dread myself, and appreciate the elaborate systems with which some people fill the void, appreciate all the opiates of the people, whether they are as accessible as alcohol and heroin and promiscuity or as hard to come by as faith in God or History.”

I’ve been thinking about dread a lot lately—not just the big, existential dread we carry, but the small, everyday versions that keep us from doing the things we most want: finishing the chapter, sending the pitch, making the call, taking the leap. The boulders in the path.