Uncertainty and Beyond

I had a moment of complete and utter horror a few nights ago.

It was 2 AM as I tossed and turned in my creaky bunk bed reflecting on the fact that I had taken a giant risk, left behind my stable income, my amazing townhouse, and my closest friends and family in search of a more fulfilling and meaningful life, and was now lying in a creaky bunk bed with just as much direction as when I left Pennsylvania- which is none.

Fuck.

Now what?

"When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it," Paulo Coelho says...

I just want some freakin' direction, Paulo. That's all. I'm almost 30 years old and I still have ZERO idea of what to be when I grow up. I've got this giant network of highly motivated entrepreneur friends, who are all intensely driven by a specific goal and are (mostly) several years younger to boot.

I adore my students. They make every moment worth the frustrations and doubt. My time with them has transformed my life in ways I would have never achieved otherwise. Undoubtedly, I will be in contact with many of them for years to come.

That said, when the fellowship is over, I have no intention of pursing therapy as a career.

Shouldn't I have had some grand epiphany? Am I a failure for not having any clarity after leaping out of my comfort zone and free-falling  into a now incredibly uncertain future?

My friend reminded me that it's not so much about the "end point" because what she found inspiring was the courage to jump. And this is not the end. This is only the first step in the journey beyond what was supposed to have been the next 40 (miserable) years of my life.

It's ok that I don't have any answers yet.

And so, in the meantime, I write. I make bucket lists. I plot travel plans. I enjoy the moment I'm in because the illusion that there was ever anything BUT an uncertain future was... well... an illusion.

I suppose that this is really where the over-used cliché quote "it's not about the destination, it's about the journey" regains its meaning.

Because as over-used and cliché as it is, it's true.

Here's to the journey.

Stop Looking Down Long Enough to Look Up

I used to say I was an ocean girl.

Well, I didn't "used" to- I still kinda do, BUT, with more thought than before. You see, these last few weeks have been something of an epiphany. I've gone on a hike of some sort every several days for the past few weeks, and the more I do it, the more I crave it. 

Yesterday while I was out with a friend, I realized that ever so slowly, I've been learning the language of the mountains and of being in the woods. It's different than being in the ocean, not better or worse, just different.

I find peace in the sound of the wind through the trees and reminders to breathe deep when I look out on the horizon filled with mountains that could only be described as majestic against a sky so blue it's unreal.

Over the weekend I went on a hike and met a new friend who, while we were walking and talking, suddenly stopped. He grabbed my arm and said, "Look at this. Look at how amazing this view is, and we miss it because we're always looking at the ground." 

So we slowed down. We walked quite a distance behind everyone while we were mindful to look up and even completely stop once in awhile just to enjoy what was right in front of us.

I realized that many of us are so busy just trying to get where we're going, we spend the entire time looking down to make sure we don't trip, but all the while we're missing the point of it all; we're missing the spectacular views that make the journey worth taking in the first place. 

We're taught that we should hurry up and push as hard as we can to get finished, but finish what? A class? A job? A chore? A workout? A hike? And why- why do we feel as though we have to race through our lives always looking down to ensure that we don't trip while we're pushing as hard and as fast as we can to get to the end. 

But maybe, just maybe, the end is not so important. Maybe, like the old cliché says, "It's not about the destination, it's about the journey."

Next time you find yourself racing through school, work, the various stages of a relationship, a project, or even just a hike, slow down- maybe even completely stop- and take a moment to look, really look, at what's around you. 

You may just find that whatever you're working so hard to finish has a new meaning, and the end point becomes not so important after all.

"When Nothing is Certain, Anything is Possible"

Last trimester flew by, and we're already well into January. I have an entire 7 months here, but I only have 7 months here. I still have no idea of what I want to be when I grow up. My dad just sent me a text reminding me to slow down and enjoy the time I have- something will come to me. It's hard for me to not want to plan it all out, but I have to remind myself to enjoy the moment I'm in and not worry about the ones to come because the reality of life is that the ones to come may never arrive. Aside from that, I also have no idea what unexpected opportunities may lie around the bend. 

My visit home caused me to have a brief moment of considering moving back- I didn't realize how much I had missed my friends and family until I returned. It was like entering a warm room after being in the cold and not realizing you were freezing. But as fate? luck? would have it, a series of events reminded me that I left for a reason. I am on a journey, and I cannot settle until I find those things I addressed in my post (A Few) Things I Learned the Last 3 Months. I made a commitment to myself to give myself the chance to discover all of those things that make me come alive- that give my life depth and meaning. I chose this path, and now I must follow it to whatever end.

I realize I will have many days in the coming months when I will panic about my future, but I know I need to take a deep breath, and let life come as it will. Since I've been here, I've reaffirmed my love of travel, food, training, and writing. Additionally, I've also discovered how much I love building relationships with my students. They make every day worth my fear and self-doubt and give me hope in ways I would have never discovered otherwise. I'm as excited to see how their lives unfold as I am about my own. How will I combine all of these? I have no clue yet. But I'm sure I'll figure it out. Eventually.