I believe I have exhausted doubt. I have given it full rein to express itself, to show me what it can do. The results were miserable of course, but that is merely doubt being doubt.
In lieu of doubt, I perform, in the way sound substitutes for silence. I come to my work and my life like a ghost made mortal, filling his old shoes just as they were left. Where, and when, I doubted I lived my life at half-speed. Doubt gave me no insights to the world as it is or myself as I was. And certainly there are no dreams in doubt.
I learned from doubt to avoid it. To examine it, perhaps, to employ doubt in the suited form of skepticism, yes, but to avoid contact with it. In the moment that accept what I am, I am free of doubt. How else can I change or enact any controversies unless I believe in myself as a mechanism? All can be doubted, all can be freed from doubt. There is much to do.