The Leap

Making decisions, especially large ones, can be hard for me. I am often plagued by one phrase: What if? What if I make a mistake? What if I hate it? What if people don’t like me? What if I fail? While asking “What if?” questions regularly has made me good at my job and is why one of my coworkers calls me Girl Scout, asking it too much can leave me paralyzed. When I decided not to be a sissy anymore, I knew it would be vital to stop asking this question and to have faith everything would be okay.

When I got home from Christmas break, I started moving forward with my plan with plenty of apprehension. I secretly hoped something would derail it, but I still moved forward. I told my landlord I was moving out on March 31. I gave my notice at the yoga studio. I had a sweat inducing conversation with my employer to see if I could work remotely and when that was not an option, I gave my notice. A few weeks later, they asked me to work remotely from Arizona through the end of June to help with a conference.  

I kept on moving forward and nothing derailed the plan. Before I knew it, I had packed almost all of my stuff in a pod, packed my closet into my car and was on the road to Arizona. Was it hard? Yes. Did I cry? Yes and I still do occasionally. Do I regret it? No.

“Courage is more exhilarating than fear and in the long run it is easier. We do not have to become heroes overnight. Just a step at a time, meeting each thing that comes up, seeing it is not as dreadful as it appeared, discovering we have the strength to stare it down.” ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

 

Eleanor is completely right. Just a step at a time.

  

 

 

 

The Catalyst

As a little girl, I was fearless. In my mind there was nothing I could not do. I took it as a challenge if anyone told me otherwise. In the safety of childhood I felt free to get dirty, make mistakes and create mischief whenever an opportunity arose.

 

I cannot pinpoint exactly when it happened, but somewhere along my journey that bold, feisty little girl learned that holding back brought a sense of safety. That risk sometimes led to pain, both emotional and physical. That setting limitations lessened the chance of disappointment. That change was not always a good thing and should be feared.

As time passed, I let fear cripple me. I let life sweep me along, content most of the time to be along for the ride. My life become a waiting game. Waiting for things I dearly wanted to happen, and feeling like those things were completely dependent on others.

For most people it takes a major life event to shake them out of their complacency. For me, it was a divorce I did not ask for but needed. Being on my own forced me to truly examine my life. I realized that all the amazing adventures I had was a result of someone else's dreams. Most of my identity was tied to another person. When that person was gone, I felt like I had lost myself and had been set adrift with no destination.

The journey of self discovery and reinvention is not easy. At times I felt on the verge of drowning. During that time of uncertainty, what I did know was that I had a choice. I had to decide if I would drown or stay afloat. And so I started to swim.  

Slowly, I rebuilt a life I felt proud of. Time started to fly by and although I started to feel content again, I also started to feel a sense of unease. I had come a long way, but I was no closer to what I really wanted. I shied away from these thoughts for months, knowing that acknowledging them would lead to more change. I could feel myself nearing the edge of a cliff and since I'm afraid of heights, I wanted to avoid that cliff at all costs.

And then I read My Year with Eleanor: A Memoir over Christmas break. While reading that book, I could no longer deny I was letting fear influence my decisions. Fear was preventing me from moving forward. This book made me think about the little girl I used to be. She would probably roll her eyes at me and call me a wuss. And so I decided to take a running leap off that cliff.

A very wise friend recently asked me who I would be if I had no fear. The honest answer is: I don't know. But I am now ready to find out.