It's happening. It's really, truly, seriously happening. I'm about to embark on my dream (in a couple months), my personal legend for those Alchemist fans out there, and aside from a heart bursting with gratitude I am ripe with excitement, anticipation and pure joy. Wow. Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth.
Full disclosure, though? I'm also terrified. Nervous. Uncertain. Come January, I'll be hopping on a plane that will drop me off half way across the globe. I mean, there's an 18 hour time difference for ya. NBD.
On a moment by moment basis I'm constantly going back and forth between "hell yes!" and "hello no!" I’m giving myself whiplash, man. Big time.
The past few days, months really, I’ve had one question lingering at the back of my mind: why am I doing this? The first thing that popped into my mind is duh, because I love to travel. I want to see the world. While yes, that’s true, I wasn’t satisfied with that answer. It wasn’t…whole enough. It just didn’t fit. There’s more to it than that, but what?
I just didn’t know. I sat down to noodle it and work it out in writing, and I ended up staring at a blank Word doc for what seemed like hours (but was probably five minutes, tops.) So, as I usually do when I come to a block in my writing, I take to Instagram for a scroll or twenty - I know, I know - and I stumbled upon this:
image via @iamhertribe
I want to live a fuck yes life (don't you?).
Find adventure around every corner.
Explore new cities.
Meet fascinating people.
Pursue what sets my soul on fire.
Yes. That’s exactly what I want, and this exactly why I've chosen to take time to travel - to live my fuck yes life. I like to think of this next endeavor as connecting another dot in the long, zig-zagged path that will eventually connect somewhere down the road. As Brene Brown talks about in Rising Strong, I’m choosing courage over comfort.
Cheers to saying fuck yes, you guys.
(And sorry for all the F bombs!)