It’s already the middle of February and while that’s not a negative after the ENDLESS month of January we endured, something has been going on that I haven’t managed to name for the last 6 or so weeks. Let’s see if I’m able to actually pin it down for the sake of this blog: This *thing *is a whole lot of procrastination followed by fits and bursts of productivity which is then usurped by crippling self-doubt (a result of my little to no self-belief). This has been happening in a series of relentless waves and the current is a strong and formidable force; so much so I can’t help but feel that in spite of these rapid peaks and valleys, and the uncertainty they have brought, this is precisely what’s meant to happen at this point in my life.
There’s undoubtedly a change going on inside of me, one that I feel is even bigger than I currently forecast it to be. It’s a core shift, a bone-deep desire to reset and breathe a breath of *new *into this life. And I don’t know where or why or how it all began but I do know that it’s long overdue. That much is an absolute truth.
Now, I know that’s all fine and well to write out or even whisper the words to myself, but with mountainous ups paired with abyssal downs, how am I to know whether progress is being made or not? How will I determine if every fucking tear that slips down my irrational cheeks is worthwhile? If the fear of always remaining in *this *spot in *this *place is not merely an unfounded worry but a genuine concern. Because I’m starting to suspect that I don’t belong in one place over the next. I was born with an incomparable wanderlust so my life and the people I love and the things that I’m passionate about either understand this, or they don’t and things could potentially fall apart.
I don’t know where the horizon will lead me and for the first time, I’m simultaneously thrilled and afraid. I’ve lived with this need to see and do and experience my entire life but fear has always been the passenger. Fear wore the hero’s cape and fooled the believer, tricking me into a delusion that where I was or am is what I actually wanted to happen. That I didn’t *need *to go do that thing or travel to that place or get that new job because comfort, clearly, was better. Easier. And damn if it wasn’t both of those things. Though I have to tell you all, I’m completely uncomfortable now. I live with an unease that’s festering and growing. But it’s not a disease of the mind that’s spreading, and while yes, the fear-companion is still there, staring at me and waving its red ruse flags, hope has come home to my heart.
A hope that I can change not because I want to but because I must. That I’m capable of altering the course of my future because of choice; I can choose to accept that these challenges and in time, turn them into something beautiful. That I can share what it is that I haven’t been able to name for so long. That the corner I’ve backed myself into isn’t lined with razor blades but instead a powerful unseen force (cue the Star Wars jokes). A force that’s impatient now. One that has been waiting to propel me forward the moment the universe knows I’m strong enough to endure the journey. I’m nearing that exodus every damn day.
I know it won’t be easy in the interim – nothing worth doing or having ever is. So, I should say for you all to expect more blogs of this sort because growth is never a process of ease or haste.